Fennec
by ForgottenLockbox
Summary: What would happen if Voldemort never existed? What about if several other things were changed as well? Hermione isn't truly Muggle-born, simply Muggle raised, and this is her story. WIP, eventual femslash.
1. Preface

_**Disclaimer: I do not own anything within the world of Harry Potter, all of it belongs to the lovely Rowling. I only own the insanity of this idea as it is portrayed here. I also have no money, and gain no money from the writing of this fiction.**_

_**The beginning concept seems like a crack-fic, but as with Frost, I intend to make it work… turning something that shouldn't work into an at least halfway decent story. Don't get me wrong, though AR and I have a few issues with certain things within the stories, we both absolutely ADORE the HP world (I'm a slytherin… she claims the same, but really she's just a ravenclaw that wants to be slytherin, the git)**_

_**Firstly to know, and quite important to the over-all events: Tom Marvollo Riddle was never born. This leads to the lack of a great war and continued random skirmishes between Dark Wizards and Aurors (without Voldemort, there were no Death Eaters, no Dark Lord, and as such dark wizards had to do their own thing without a leader. This shall become interesting, I believe).**_

_**Secondly, the entire Black Family Tree is quite complex, which is where the inspiration for this story began… I'm using that complexity to my advantage, though I'm vastly changing relationships and origins in there for the story. Initial changes to be aware of are as follows:  
>Sirius Black, Rodolphus Black, Andromeda Black Tonks, and Bellatrix Black ~ Siblings<br>Narcissa Le'Crue Mariux ~ Cousin by marriage to the Black siblings  
>Morvel Black and Jenelle Mariux Black ~ Father and Mother of the Black siblings<br>Draco Malfoy ~ bastard son of Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Mariux  
>Karrel Mariux and Brinnlie Mariux ~ legitimate children of Marcissa Le'Crue Mariux and Vendar Mariux<br>Hermione "Coulter-Black" ~ supposed niece of Sirius Black  
>Harry Severus Potter ~ godson of Sirius Black<strong>_

_**Now mind you, there will be more family tree complications, as I've only scratched the surface of it here. Enjoy if you please, and if you don't, it shall please you to leave, as I haven't a care for any flame I can't cook a s'more over.**_

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><p><strong>Prologue:<strong>

Hermione looked curiously at the boy that had taken a seat in front of her. Her current caretaker was on the phone again, and not paying her any mind. She'd been in and out of fosters for most of her life, and some lasted longer than others, but she had a feeling this one would either be rid of her quickly, or never notice the weird things that scared the others away and she'd finally have a steady home. "I _said_ hello."

"I heard you the first time." She mumbled, clutching her book tightly. The boy was looking at her expectantly, standing too-proudly with his wild hair and funny clothes. He looked like he was wearing a costume.

"Well aren't you gonna say hello back?" He asked, waving at her to do so, huge grin splitting his face. "It's the right thing to do."

"Hello." She mumbled, blushing, and ducked her head, hiding behind her bushy hair. He laughed and proceeded to plop down next to her happily. "I… I…"

"I'm Harry Potter." He was grinning happily again, she just knew it. "My godfather brought me to this park, even though it's not nearly as fun as going to play with the other… um… people… around where I live, but he promised I got to meet a special person today, so I came."

"I'm um… Hermione." She mumbled, unable to give a last name, and looked longingly down at the book in her arms. "Who are you meeting?"

"You." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, making her stiffen, and her eyes widened. "Don't worry, you'll understand someday. I've heard about you ever since I could walk, though. Your hair is a lot bigger than I expected. You're eight like me, right? Just a few more years and we'll be in a special school together, and learning the same things. We should be best friends, just so that you'll know someone there. My godfather Sirius is an Auror, but he's gonna start teaching there soon… but from him I know some other Auror's kids, and from my mum and da I know some other kids too. You won't know anyone, so we should be best friends."

"Wh… what?" Her eyes were wide and she stared at his smiling face. "I… What?"

The boy's happy expression slowly morphed into a pout. "You… don't wanna be my friend?" He actually managed to look completely heartbroken, and had he not been babbling the most absurd things, she might have tried to comfort him. "I… I thought we'd be… b- best friends…."

"How have you heard about me all your life?" She asked instead, half-frightened and half-angry. Was he another orphan child too? Had he just recently been adopted, and have heard the tales before that of the problem girl Hermione? "And why do you think we'll both be going to the same school? How do you know my age?"

"Because Sirius is your uncle… you _have_ to be like me." He answered, wide eyed behind his shiny glasses. "And he's always told me about you. He loves you a lot, and looks out for you, but his job is dangerous, so he hasn't been able to come and get you yet. He will though, he promised me he would. It'll be okay." The boy named Harry lurched forward again, wrapping Hermione in a big hug, his odd behavior confusing her even more. The book fell to the ground with a thud. "He's gonna bring me here once a month if you can come too, or mum will. You'll come, right?"

"I…" she squirmed out of his grasp and looked around in a panic. A crazy boy was hugging her and talking about strange things. Where was her foster mother when she needed her? Hermione's hazel eyes landed on the stupid woman, babbling away on her phone again. She'd just been accosted by another child, who supposedly had an equally crazy man that believed himself to be her uncle somewhere nearby, and the woman hadn't even noticed. Her jaw clenched, and she glared… and the phone in the woman's hand began hissing, popping, and jumped out of the grip that held it, spinning on the ground before shattering in a miniaturized, fire-work-like explosion. "Oh goodness…"

"You did that right?" Harry asked, looking at where she'd been glaring as well. "It happens when we're upset, or scared, or angry… or something like that. I don't know, really. My friend Nevil almost flew once, when he was in danger. It's okay, you just have to keep calm. If you're calm it doesn't happen as much." He babbled, petting her bushy hair. "You don't like her, do you?"

"I… I…" Hermione gasped, staring wide eyed at the destroyed phone, and then back to him. "I…"

"Sirius said this stuff probably scares you still. My da and mum were so happy when a 'happenstance' first came out around me. Meant I wasn't a Squib. You won't be either." He smiled brightly. "Just don't be scared, and be calm, and it's okay. That's what mum says at least. It scared her sister a lot when she was our age… they still don't talk, but Aunt is a Muggle, so she doesn't understand our life the way she should."

"I…" Hermione gasped again, and he wrapped her in another gentle hug. "I'm…"

"It's okay, Hermione. We're best friends now… I promise Sirius and I won't let the happenstances hop you around homes anymore… and in a few years, we'll be in school together." Harry whispered. "Now tell me about what you were reading!"

_**TBC**_


	2. Part The First: Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer in preface._**

**Bit of a rush through these first bits, getting the stage set, as I haven't really the desire to rewrite the occurrances of ALL SEVEN BOOKS for this. Sorry it's rushed, we'll get to the meat of the story soon enough.**

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><p>Hermione looked cautiously around Diagon Alley for her friend and his parents. Uncle Sirius was busy at the school, and unable to help her gather her necessary supplies, but Harry had said that they'd shop together. "Mione!" The excited shout of her friend made her cringe, and glare around to see if any others were staring because of his outburst. The pretty redheaded woman that she'd learned was Harry's mother stood with the boy, shushing him with an affectionate smile, but his father was looking curiously through the broom-shop's window at the latest model to come out.<p>

"I still don't understand why they must prohibit first-years from having brooms of their own, Lily. Harry's been flying since before he could walk…" The man said finally as Hermione drew closer, brushing her bushy hair back and looking curiously at the family. "Most of the kids have… and if they have their own broom, they can probably use it. He won't be able to join the House Team until _second year_ at this rate."

"Not everyone is obsessed with Quidditch, James." Lily's kind voice offered, shaking her head. "Hello, Hermione. You got here alrigh?"

"Miss Coulter didn't much like dropping me off at a pub, but she'll be glad to be rid of me for the school year, so she didn't object." Hermione sighed, shaking her head at her foster mother. The woman wasn't bad really, and certainly took decent care of her, but there was none of the happy affection that she saw in the Potter family. "We're hoping her electronics stop fizzling out around me once I've learned wand magic."

"Glad to be rid of you. Piffle!" James snorted, and ruffled her hair, making it as messy as his and his son's. "She should be _proud_ to have the niece of Sirius Black as her foster-daughter. Proud I say. Now lets get you two the fun stuff before we have to bother with books."

"I _like_ books." Hermione blushed, hiding behind her hair even as she tried to tame it from his mussing. Really, her hair was hard enough to manage on its own, she didn't need one of the Potters making it any messier. "They're wonderful."

"So you didn't want to get your wand and owl first?" James asked with a twinkle in his eye, even as Harry slung an arm over her shoulder. Hermione blushed even as her friend seemed to get even more excited.

"James, darling, she might not want an owl. What if she wants a cat, or a toad?" Lily laughed lightly. "You're our guest, and James and Harry can be courteous when they _really_ try, Hermione, so what would you like to get first?"

"I…" She glanced curiously toward the Managerie that they would visit at some point that day. She didn't think that a familiar was going to be welcomed into her foster home, even if it was more intelligent than the creatures were generally speaking. "Let's get our wands?"

"Yes!" Harry jumped away from her, arm off of her shoulder and pumping in the air as he did his goofy dance. She smiled shyly, shaking her head at her friend. Harry hadn't been wrong that day in the park, years ago; he really was her best friend. "Yes, yes, yes! You're bloody wonderful, Hermione!"

"Harry!" Lily chided, and the boy winced, hiding behind Hermione as if she could protect him from his mother's wrath. "Language, young man."

"Yes mum, sorry." He grinned sheepishly, and then promptly grabbed Hermione's wrist and dragged her eagerly to Ollivander's. She had to yank back at him to slow him down before he ran into one of the stacks of wand boxes once they'd gotten inside, his parents following behind in amusement. She'd expected the most reputed wand shop in England to be a bit less… cluttered… but didn't comment. Dusty old boxes, shiny new boxes, ornate wooden ones, boxes of all kinds, each just the size to hold a wand… but she didn't see the proprietor anywhere. "Hullo? Gosh, Hermione, look at all of these."

"Hello." Both of them jumped, Hermione shrieking involuntarily, as the little old man popped out from behind one of the floor-to-ceiling stacks of wands. Holding her shirt over where her heart was beating rapidly, Harry jumping protectively in front of her, she stared wide-eyed at the man. "Oh, my apologies… Harry Potter, Lily Evans Potter… welcome. Are these your children? Harry… and…" the man adjusted his glasses, squinting at Hermione. "Why you look like one of the Black children, my dear."

"This is Harry, yes." James Potter offered with a proud smile, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder, and pulling him discreetly further from Hermione. "And this is Hermione, Sirius Black's niece. They're getting their first wands today… both of them got into Hogwarts."

"Wonderfu, wonderful. Now who shall we see to first, hm?" The man squinted at both of them curiously again, and abruptly pointed a somewhat gnarled finger at Harry. "Yes the boy. The boy would do fine. Let's see." The old man muttered idly to himself as he wandered through the stacks and shelves of boxes, peering curiously at a few.

"That would be Mr. Ollivander." Lily offered to Hermione, smiling affectionately and helping to smooth the girl's hair down a little. "He seems a bit… distracted… sometimes, but he's a brilliant man. He's never placed a wand wrong."

"Well well!" The surprised exclamation from somewhere deep within the stacks and shelves of wands made four sets of eyes turn toward where the old man was quickly scuttling toward them. In his hands was a peculiar box, and Hermione couldn't quite tell it's condition in comparison to the others, as it was glowing and sparking from within. "I believe something has found its owner. Quite peculiar. Here, boy, try this out." Ollivander quickly removed the top. Hermione watched in awe as the slightly crooked wand continued to emit sparks and the occasional stream of twinkling light. Harry smiled brightly, reaching carefully, almost cautiously, to pick the thing up. "Vine, Pheonix tail-feather core, thirteen-and-a-quarter inches, springy."

Harry picked it up, and the wand abruptly quieted, seeming to confuse the wand-maker. Hermione didn't quite notice the old man's gaze traveling to her for a contemplative moment before Harry cried out and dropped the wand, shaking his hand as it gave off odd sparks again. Ollivander sighed, smiling softly, and shook his head, carefully placing the dropped wand back into its velvet casing and closing the box. "What was that?"

"I believe that was not quite the wand for you my boy. No worries, no worries." Ollivander settled the box next to them nevertheless, on one of the few clear counter spaces, and moved off to inspect more boxes. It took another three tries, each wand not quite the correct match. One, a beech wand with unicorn hair as its core, sputtered strange liquid from its tip, splashing up from the ground in an odd, purple hue before the liquid disappeared, and Hermione edged further away so as not to get the resultant whatever-it-was on her. She watched in amusement as the others shot strange lights around the room, some ricocheting off of boxes and the ceiling. The two elder Potters seemed just as amused by the spectacle. By the time they'd gotten to the last wand, Harry actually winced as he picked it up. "Pear, fourteen inches even, dragon heartstring core, rigid. Try it out boy, give it a swish."

Harry, closing his eyes in preparation for another bit of unexpected magic, waved the wand back and forth, cringing. He just knew he'd be shooting off sparks again or splashing strange liquid at them, or _something_. Instead, a soft humming noise sounded, gentle wafts of sparkling light flowing from the tip, and Lily sighed behind her. Hermione smiled as well, amazed at how the entire process worked, and that Harry had finally been paired with his wand. It was a beautiful, golden color, though light in hue, with simple rings as decorative embellishment around the handle, barely tapering to a rounded point. Finally, her friend opened his eyes, and looked in wonder at his wand.

"Perfect, perfect. Always lovely to pair wands with their owners. It's the wand that picks the wizard, really." Ollivander nodded, boxing the wand back into its wooden casing. "Two wands to go, wonderful pairing."

As the man began to disappear into the stacks, after however he would charge them, Hermione's eyebrows drew together. "I'm sorry, sir… but… what about me?"

"Oh, dear me, apologies." He nodded, looking distracted, and gestured at the first box he'd brought out and set down, the vine wand. "Pick it up then, though I'm sure you're already paired."

"What?" Harry gaped, and Ollivander only gestured impatiently at the box again, where it glowed softly on the counter. Nervously, Hermione lifted the top away, noting a a simple, yet elegant, wooden box similar to Harry's wand. Hand shaking, and expecting it to spark and burn its way out of her grip as it had to her friend, she picked it up in a delicate grasp, holding only with her thumb and first two fingers. Unlike Harry's first try, or his successful wand, it neither stopped glowing, nor did it emit special effects. The glow simply solidified at its narrowly pointed tip. Holding her breath, Hermione gave it a soft flick, and Harry shivered as a sweet smelling, if cold, breeze flew at him from the wand. "Blimey."

"Quite right. Vine and phoenix feather… quite a combination… quite a combination." Ollivander nodded, moving away again. "Just getting some holsters for you… likely to need them, especially the girl. Yes, quite."

"Arm and ankle both for the boy!" James called out happily, and proceeded to pat them both jovially on the shoulder. "Dragon, Harry! A Dragon Heartstring wand. Proud of you, boy."

"That's good then?" Hermione asked, staring dumbly at the wand in her hand. It had a few twists and quirks to it, though it wasn't bent too far in any direction, very obviously coming from some kind of thick bramble. It was beautifully polished, though, and felt more sturdy than the flexible bend she'd expected from a vine-made-wand.

"Dragon heartstring wands are supposed to be very powerful, if a bit temperamental." Lily Potter offered with a fond smile. "And Pear wood wands have supposedly _never_ been turned to dark magic. We're very proud of him." The woman nodded, then smiled a little warily at the wand Hermione still held. Nervously, the girl placed it back into its box. "I've never heard of wands reacting like that when their witch or wizard first entered the shop, however."

"Oh, it's quite a characteristic of Vine wands, as I've never seen it happen with another wand wood." Ollivander offered, emerging with three leather contraptions. The first two he handed to Harry and the boy's father to size to the boy's arm and leg. "I believe this arm holster should fit the wand, its shape makes the fit interesting, dear. I make few vine, you see, as they're very peculiar about their wielder. It's best you not let someone borrow that, girl, especially with Phoenix as its core."

"Er… yes sir." She swallowed hard, looking at the wand box. It had apparently calmed down, as no magical effects were currently lighting up the box, but she was still cautious when trying out the fit of the wand to her arm holster. The deep gray-brown of the wood contrasted beautifully with the reddish hue of the leather, and she noticed that the same stain had been used on Harry's two holsters as well. The price asked for the wands was a bit high, in her opinion, but considering that they'd been paired so well, she didn't complain when neither of the adults had. "Harry… do you want to pick where we go next?"

"I already know where he _wants_ to go, but I suggest we have your robes measured and ordered, and then to lunch." Lily suggested with a gentle smile. "He'll spend an hour just looking over all of the owls in there alone if we let you two wander into the Menagerie now… and we'll all be starving if he does that."

"Food does sound wonderful! All that excitement, and I'm starving already." James chuckled, shuffling the boy out of the shop ahead of him. "Besides, it's likely best we _do_ look for your owl last, as it'll end up in its cage all day, having to be lugged around with us."

"That does seem kindest…" Hermione whispered to a pouting Harry, who reluctantly nodded in agreement. "Besides, I don't think I'll be getting a familiar… so I'll be looking for yours with you."

"What? You _have_ to Hermione. How are you gong to write me whenever something _interesting_ happens without one? Mine won't always be around to carry your letters for you, and I barely hear from you without you owning one already." The boy bounced along next to her, pouting dramatically. "Please? Please get one Hermione? They're not bad, really. Very intelligent, you won't have to worry about it screeching at you randomly."

"I just don't think that Miss Coulter will like me bringing an animal home, nevermind it being a wizarding animal." Hermione blushed, shrugging, and carefully felt the holster on her arm. She'd have to get used to wearing that, though she suspected that the robes had to have a pocket for wands somewhere in them. Harry pouted again. "It's not that bad, Harry. You never understand my muggle-life stories anyway."

"I'm not _that_ bad. Mum was born to muggles!" Harry defended, looking back at his mother for confirmation. "She's a witch, but her family is muggles."

"Yes, but my parents are both gone now, you barely remember them, and you never see your aunt and cousin. You're as clueless about the muggle world as your father, dear." Lily smiled softly. "I barely remember how having to live without magic was myself."

"Robes! Here." James interrupted, not liking to admit that there wasn't something he didn't know or understand, even about the non-magic folk. Hermione blushed. "Come along, and be sure they're fitted to you properly. We've the money to spare, as do you Hermione, no fussing about that… Sirius would have spirited you away to live with him by now if you hadn't objected to it upsetting Miss Coulter. You can at least let him pay for the _right_ school supplies with all that money he earned being an Auror."

"I doubt I'll grow much, so they should last a few years…" Hermione guessed, looking nervously at the listed prices. Hopefully school robes weren't too expensive, no matter what Mr. Potter said. Harry laughed lightly, and dragged her over to one of the witches that worked at the shop. "H-Hullo."

The entire experience wasn't actually that terrible, though her arm developed a cramp from having to hold it out during the pinning and measuring for so long. Lunch was cheerful, and though her wand did spark something from her arm holster, and made her bread roll sprout legs and crawl off and away into the Menagerie, embarrassing her no end, the Potters only laughed happily. Apparently, first years had a bit of reputation for occasionally uncontrolled wands deciding to make a bit of mischief. At least she hadn't set anything on fire, as James's wand had done more than once to his robes while it was getting used to him.

Her books she insisted on getting second hand, as she claimed they felt more loved that way, after of course flipping through carefully and assuring they were in tact. It took her no longer to inspect them than for Harry to find his new, and they managed to get out even as a rush of other students filled the shop. Absently, she noted Harry waving happily at a dopy looking, brown-haired boy that entered with an impressive looking set of parents. Once they'd acquired potions materials, as well as whatever else was felt as necessary, Lily pulled Hermione away to another shop while James finally allowed Harry to rush into the Menagerie. "We'll get you some extra scrolls, quills, and the like. I suspect you'll want them more than Harry, book-lover that you are." Hermione blushed. "And your familiar can stay with us on occasion, if your foster-mother objects so much. Harry had planned on getting it for you as a belated birthday gift. He practically _sleeps_ in the muggle-jacket you got for him." Hermione blushed, surprised. She hadn't expected anything from any of them for her eleventh birthday, and the wizarding candy that Harry had sent her was more than adequate, even as she opened her mouth to object, Lily shushed her. "He wanted to give you an owl at first, but we made him wait until both of you had gotten into Hogwarts."

"I… alright." She whispered, still blushing. "And the jacket wasn't that impressive…."

"Are you kidding? He loves it! James is considering hunting down a larger one for himself. I'd forgotten how much warmer muggle jackets are than wizard robes." Lily smiled and shook her head. "It's too warm for it right now, being summer, but he wore it around the house all day when he got it in the post. Nearly sweated himself to death. Please, just let him buy you the silly owl, or whichever you choose, he'll be too happy to do so."

"Alright." Hermione blushed again, and did so even more as Mrs. Potter offered her own money for the lovely quill and writing set. "I…"

"My own birthday gift to you. Shush." Lily winked. "Now come along and pick out your familiar."

By the time she'd found her best friend and his father, the pair of them were bickering over the value of a sleeker owl vs. a larger one, speed over carrying ability. She smiled fondly along with the woman before they'd finally noticed the girls' return. "Mione! Tell da, it'll be better if I get a fast owl. What will I be sending anywhere that would be heavy?" Harry smiled lopsidedly, and Hermione laughed. "Are you _sure_ you don't want something, Mione? She can't be that strict, it's not like a _wild_ animal."

"Alright Harry… but you have to help me pick it out." Hermione answered with a sigh, seeing Lily's wink at James and the man's beaming smile. "What did the acceptance letter say? Owl, cat, or toad?"

"I've heard rats, ravens, and spiders are alright too, and some snakes… but you have to get approval for them." Harry looked around excitedly. "Sirius is your uncle, though, so that wouldn't be hard. Which do you want? Dad wants me to get the snowy owl, but I was considering that horned owl…"

"I dunno. Keep looking, I'll walk around." She blushed, glancing at the various animals. "Pick yours first, and then you can help me." He nodded eagerly, and proceeded to re-enter the debate with his father. Hermione ambled slowly through the shop, looking curiously at the strange creatures housed there. Some of them seemed normal, especially the room almost filled with slumbering cats, though others were genuinely frightening to even look at. Harry tracked her down in one of the exotic areas, staring curiously at a cute little dog-like creature. "What do you think that is?"

"It says it's a fox… but I've only seen the bigger red ones on the moors." Harry mumbled, leaning closer. "Do you want it?"

Hermione kept staring at the creature, fascinated… almost mesmerized by it, as Harry looked at her curiously. His lips turned up into a soft, fond smile, as her eyes locked with the little fox's, and he gestured discreetly over at his parents. All three of them were watching her fondly when she finally broke out of her trance. "I… no. Thanks Harry, but I shouldn't get something off of the list without getting permission from the school first. I don't want to have to leave it behind at home for Coulter to take care of just because I didn't think first." She sighed and the creature curled back up, fluffy tail draped over its muzzle, and went back to sleep. "Maybe someday…"

She did end up getting an owl, much to Harry's excitement. It was a sleek, beautiful barn owl, with a soft, golden tint to the brown of its feathers and a sweet, heart-like face. Harry's father had finally won the argument about which owl would be best for the boy, saying that fewer strong owls could fetch the boy his broom when permission was finally granted for it, and as such her friend now had a snowy owl, Hedwig. Her own, a male, she named Jareth, grinning impishly at the memory of an older, American-Muggle movie. None of the Potters got the private joke, of course.

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><p>Hermione looked nervously from her foster mother to the crowds of the train station. Neither of them quite understood how there could be a "platform 9 ¾" and Miss Coulter was obviously frustrated and skeptical about this endeavor, but Hermione trusted her magical friends and the letter. Somehow, somewhere, there was a platform wedged between nine and ten, and that was how she was going to get to Hogwarts. Miss Coulter was not on her phone, for once, likely fearing that with not only Hermione so close, but all of her magical supplies, the thing would explode in an even more impressive display than usual.<p>

Hermione stood there for several moments, really, attempting to figure out how to find the platform, before she saw a large group of redheaded people, each pushing a luggage cart loaded similarly to hers. Not even bothering with a word to the woman next to her, fearing losing the group, Hermione shoved hard at the cart, finally getting it moving and trudging after them. She heard the woman of the group, a merry looking lady with frizzy orange-red hair, chiding most of the boys, before glancing about and gesturing at the column that sat part-way between platforms nine and ten.

After Hermione had actually seen the eldest of the boys somehow disappear into the brick wall itself, her eyes widened, and she stared at the woman with her. "I… erm… I think that's how I'll be getting through. Do you want to come? It'll be… well… it'll be as crowded and magical as the shopping alley."

Miss Coulter's lips thinned and her face paled, and she looked nervously at her watch. "Best if I don't likely. You'll not be able to get me back through if I faint." The woman was oddly unashamed to say, and Hermione sighed. "Now, take care of yourself at that magic school of yours. It can't be safe, that magic stuff exploding about you at random, better to be under your control." The woman paused and shifted, placing a nervous and awkward hand on Hermione's shoulder. "I'll never understand you, Mione, I know that… especially now… but I do love you, no matter not understanding you. You be careful there. No telling what dangerous business magical folk could be."

"I'll be fine Miss Coul… I'll be fine _mum_…" It still felt awkward to say, and made the woman blush and fidget uncomfortably. "Thanks. I… er… should go before I lose my nerve." She carefully trailed after the redheaded family, rushing through a moment after the last had gone, and looked nervously around at the bustling crowd on the other side. It seemed even more packed than the London transit had looked. Seeing the redheaded family she'd copied starting to bustle around with bags, Hermione looked frantically for Harry and his parents… there was no way she'd be able to handle the heavier parts of her luggage herself.

"Lost, dearling?" The words startled her, and she glanced up at the matronly woman from the family she'd followed. Hermione smiled nervously. "First time? Where're your parents, love?"

"My guardi… I mean my mum didn't… couldn't come through with me." Hermione took a deep breath and puffed herself up a bit, trying to act braver. She was to be a witch now, no need to be so nervous. "I'm just looking for my friend Harry and his parents, to help with my luggage."

"Oh, nonsense lovely, you look positively shaken. Muggle-born are you?" The woman shook her head, and ushered Hermione closer to her family. "We'd be happy to help. Percy, come help this little lovely with her luggage before you're off."

"Mum, I have to get to the Prefect's cabin for the meeting…" the tall, gangly boy in glasses whined, idly adjusting the silver P badge on his robes. Hermione idly noticed that all but one of the boys sported red and gold barding along the hem of their robes. "Can't da…"

"Enough, Percival, it won't take you that long, and your father is loading Ronald's luggage for him, as the twins won't have anyone help them with theirs." The woman snapped, making the other redheaded boys giggle as the whipped out wands and began floating things about, aiming several things into the luggage compartments. "What's your name dear? She's a new student, it's your duty as a _prefect_ to help her."

"Oh, bother…" the boy stomped up, sneering at the luggage cart, and eyed her. "There anything you want to take on and in yourself, girl? First years enter the castle separately, for sorting, so you'll not see your things again until you're in your dorms."

"Will Jareth be alright?" Hermione squeaked, almost reflexively reaching for the owl in his cage. Percy rolled his eyes, and she quickly grabbed the cage as well as her book-bag and school robe. She hadn't even noticed his brothers putting theirs on when she was looking for Harry, and shuffled nervously as the boy promptly produced his own wand and began floating her things into the storage compartment. "I… er… I'm Hermione."

"Molly Weasley, dear, and the moody boy is my son Percy. He's a prefect for Gryffindor." The proud smile belied the annoyance the woman seemed to have with the boy's attitude. "The twins there are Fred and George, and the other boy is Ronald, it's his first year too."

"I'm Ginny!" The youngest, a girl that seemed only a year or so her junior hopped up, smiling cheerfully at Hermione. "Mum, she's not a muggle-born. You said that most of the muggle-borns wouldn't have wand holsters yet, and that Ron wouldn't be left out not having one."

"Mione there you are!" Harry's exuberant shout silenced whatever Mrs. Weasley might have said in return, and Hermione smiled in relief as the Potters finally converged on her, Harry hugging her enthusiastically, as if he'd feared her lost, and his parents chuckling softly. "Da apparated in from practice just to see us off. You made new friends!"

"Mrs. Weasley was nice enough to have her son help with my luggage, since I couldn't find you." Hermione smiled softly, shrugging, and then winked at Ginny, and Ron as the boy wandered up, dumbstruck looks on their faces. She didn't know what was so amazing about her friend, but the redheaded children were obviously impressed. "The girl is Ginny, and that's Ronald, he's a first year too."

"I… told you she wasn't a muggle-born mum…" The girl whispered to the woman, eyes not leaving the Potters. "That's _James Potter_."

"Bloody hell…" Ron gasped, staring as well, and Mrs. Weasley quicky smacked him over the head.

"Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Weasley. Our sincerest thanks for helping Hermione with her things. She's a very close friend of the family, and we'd feared she might be trying to lift them herself." James smiled roguishly, offering a hand to the woman, who blushed and giggled as she shook it. "As your spunky daughter has surmised, I'm James Potter, and this is my wife Lily. Our son, Harry, seems to be in the same year as Ronald."

"Lovely to meet you, Mr. Potter." Mrs. Weasley giggled again, and was soon joined by the remainder of her family, half of whom gaped at the Potters. Hermione blushed as well, having forgotten that apparently James Potter was a sports player in the wizarding world. "It would be about time for the children to board the train, though."

"Oh yes, that does sound right." Lily smiled brightly and nodded, ruffling Harry's hair. "Go on now, we'll see you at Christmas, and we love you. Don't get into too much trouble."

Harry laughed, grabbed the cage from Hermione's hand so that she didn't have to carry it, and with an owl in each hand, urged her toward the train. "Come on, Ronald, you can sit with us since you're friends with Hermione now! Mione, we gotta get good seats."

"Slow down Harry, you'll jostle the owls." She chided, hugging his parents and quickly thanking Mrs. Weasley again before running after him. "And Ron's still staring at your da."

"Am not!" Ron gasped, hurrying after them with a wave at his mother, eyes still wide even as he caught up and helped to settle the birds into a cabin with them. "Bloody hell, Harry, your da is England's _Seeker_!"

"Yup." Harry grinned proudly. "Mione has no idea what that is, but he's awesome. He taught me to be a Seeker too." Harry bragged, and slung his arm over Hermione's shoulders as they settled into their seats. "Do you play Quidditch?"

"Er… a bit. With my brothers sometimes." Ron mumbled, blushing.

"Oh that flying balls game you gush about?" Hermione's nose wrinkled. "You're going to break your neck from one of the angry ones someday, Harry, and _then_ you won't brag so much about it."

"Oh posh, Mione, it's not that bad." Harry laughed, then smiled brightly at Ron. "I've known Hermione for years, but she grew up with muggles, so she doesn't really understand Quidditch yet. She's never seen a game live, even though mum and I have tried to take her to one of dad's games. She was always in muggle school when they happened, though."

"Wow." Ron shook his head, eyes still wide and impressed. "I always followed the Chudley Cannons, but they've only had Chasters taken for the national team…"

"Da played for Puddlemere United before he was tapped for nationals." Harry shrugged. "The Cannons aren't bad, really… but they haven't had a Chaster tapped in two years."

"Er… yeah…" Ron blushed again, and Hermione rolled her eyes. "So Hermione _is_ muggle born? How'd you meet?" He was obviously trying to change the subject, which was probably due to his embarrassment, but Hermione didn't mind at all.

"Erm.. not exactly? Sirius say's really complicated… but really it goes, of what we know, that she's Sirius's niece somehow, and he's my godfather because he and my da have been best friends since Hogwarts, so he brought me to meet her when we were eight." Harry screwed up his face in thought, pulling her tighter to him. "Anyway, we've been best friends ever since."

"He means that I've been in fosterage all of my life and my uncle, Sirius, was an Auror and it was too dangerous to raise me when I could be safely kept with the Muggles." Hermione rolled her eyes, elbowing the boy for a little more space. "I didn't even know magic was real until he showed up in the park that I'm reading in and started babbling at me like a loon. Eventually I did realize he wasn't completely nutter, and we _are_ best friends now…. My foster mother doesn't quite understand this magic business, so they've all helped loads."

"Wow." Ron gaped, and then grinned more widely. "So you've both owls, though? All of my things are secondhand or hand-me-downs because I've so many brothers." He blushed, glaring down at his handed-down robes. "My robes were my brother Charlie's, and my wand was my other brother Bill's. My rat was Percy's… he got all new things and an owl because he was made a Gryffindor prefect this year."

"At least you didn't have to go through that wand matching business, though." Harry's eyes were wide. "Mione's wand was tried with me first, and it nearly burned and blew my hand off! And the others kept shooting things around the shop. It was bonkers, mate."

Ron chuckled nervously, blushing more, and Hermione rolled her eyes. "I actually got my books secondhand… I would have with my robes too, if they'd allowed me to." Hermione said with a shrug, the redheaded, gangly boy staring at her in awe. She just noticed, then, how big his nose actually looked. "They feel well loved, that way, and sometimes there might be notes made in the margins to give you a bit of extra information. _Hogwarts, A History_ was barely touched though… I don't know if anyone even opened that up previously. I've already read through it three times. My robes… well… we'll grow out of them I'd imagine, with time… and what's the use of buying them new to only have them beaten up with activity or grown out of too quickly? His da insisted, though, as my uncle is paying for them. I'll probably try to care for them well, and donate them for secondhand use when I've outgrown them."

"Wow…" Ron whispered, still staring at her. She looked at him curiously. "You talk a lot for a girl."

"And you stare a lot for a boy." She snapped, making Harry laugh. "What's so wrong with re-using things anyway? Half of the things we get to enjoy I would never have even dreamed of having in my first several foster homes."

"Sorry." Ronald blushed again and looked away, noticing that he still held his sleeping rat from when he'd shown it as demonstration. "Guess it's not all bad… but this old rat's useless. All he ever does is sleep. Percy said he had him for five years already, which means he can't hold out much longer. Maybe I'll get an owl of my own after he's gone… or a raven. Ravens are supposed to be cool."

"He doesn't seem that bad…" Hermione tried to comfort, and a strange, puttering sound could be heard, and she smelled an odd, disgusting scent coming from their direction, Ron sneering and holding the rat well away from all of them. "Eugh, did he just…"

"Yeah… he does that a lot." Ron was still sneering, and stuffed the still sleeping rat back into his robe pocket. Hermione made a similar face, and Harry just started laughing. "What house do you think you'll be in? My entire family's been in Gryffindor… all five of my brothers, and my mum and dad. I'll never hear the end of it from Fred and George if I don't make it in… they keep saying I'll be in Hufflepuff."

"Mum and dad were in Gryffindor too! So was Sirius." Harry smiled brightly. "Dad says anything's better than Slytherin, though. Mum always blushes and says that Slytherins aren't too bad… one of her old friends is the Slytherin head… but I still don't think I'd want to be in it."

"I heard that Dumbledore just instituted a new rule… that you can petition to be resorted at the end of the year if you really think you don't fit in your house anymore… but you have to take it up with your Head of House to do it." Ron whispered, eyes wide. Hermione's eyebrow arched. That wasn't in _Hogwarts, A History_. "He only started it just last year, though, and Percy said that only two kids managed it. One Hufflepuff boy that wound up being resorted into Ravenclaw, and a Gryffindor that wound up as a Hufflepuff. I think the new Ravenclaw boy was at the end of his second year, but the Gryffindor girl was on the end of her fifth."

"Hufflepuff girl." Hermione corrected, frowning at the thought. She could understand being willing to resort the children if they really wished it, as people did change as they matured, but it must be terrible to have to face your House if you weren't re-sorted somewhere else and they'd found out. Ron was frowning at her. "You still called her a Gryffindor. If she was resorted, then she should be called a Hufflepuff, shouldn't she?"

"Er… yeah…" Ron pouted, and then the door to the cabin opened, displaying a woman with an overloaded food-and-candy cart.

"Anyone want anything?" the witch smiled brightly at them, and Hermione noticed Ron staring longingly at the assortment of goodies.

"Er… no thanks… I brought my own…" He reluctantly pulled a somewhat crumpled sandwich out of the pocket that didn't hold the rat, looking at the thing squeamishly.

"Harry…" She whispered, nudging him.

"We'll take a bit of any candy you have, a pumpkin pasty for each of us… do you have any roasted pasties too? Ooh, pumpkin juice! You'trying it this time, Mione, I insist. Enough pumpkin juice for all of us too." The boy's eyes were wide and excited, and he quickly withdrew several gold coins from his pockets.

"Do you have regular water, by chance?" Hermione asked with a wary expression. Juice from pumpkins just sounded odd to her, and she wanted to be able to wash the taste away if it was as horrid as she anticipated.

"On me, dear, you're the first to ask after water all day." The witch smiled gently, handing over a chilled thermos to the girl before starting to pile things carefully onto one of the open spaces in the compartment, carefully calculating as she did so. It was a while before she'd finished and Harry had paid, and Ron eagerly partook, with an embarrassed blush, when Hermione insisted he allow them to share.

The entire day had gone by the time they finally arrived, Ron and Harry chatting happily for most of the ride, with Hermione occasionally joining in when she understood what they were on about. She already knew, even as they exited the train, that the first years would be separated from the rest and boated across the dark lake, instead of arriving by special carriage as the other students would. She'd donned her school robe, adjusting slightly when she felt it catch a bit on her arm holster where her shirt had ridden up. She noticed that Harry wasn't wearing his own, meaning he'd probably either put his wand in its pocket in the robe, or was wearing the leg piece. The giant man that was calling the first years over to where he stood was grizzly and intimidating, but the cheery smile that peeked out from within his bushy beard, and the twinkle in his eyes, helped to calm her.

By the time they'd crossed into the great hall, the large man that had introduced himself as Professor Hagrid had taken any caged animals from them, tagging each magically with their respective owners' names, claiming that he was the Care and Conservation of Magical Creatures professor and that the creatures would be perfectly safe with him. Hearing his subject, and seeing how carefully he settled the various caged creatures onto a large cart, Hermione hadn't a worry for her owl. Before she could enter the dining hall with the others, however, the stern looking witch that had instructed them to enter and move, single file, to the front had stopped her.

"You'd be Hermione, I assume? Professor Black showed your picture to Professor Dumbledore and I." The woman smiled down at her stiffly, and Hermione blushed. "I am Minerva McGonagall, and I am the deputy headmistress, as well as Professor of Transfiguration and Head of Gryffindor House." The woman allowed for Hermione to nod in understanding again. "According to your files, you have no last name, but being Professor Black's niece, with his eager permission I might add, you have the liberty to be registered with his last name. Before we perform the sorting, I'll need to know your preference, for when you are called and sorted."

"Oh…" She blushed brightly, and looked back at the entrance to the hall. She still hadn't been legally given her foster mother's name, so technically she hadn't one. She'd known her uncle for nearly as long as the woman, however, and he'd always been happy to have her around and claim familial affiliation with her. "Um… I… can it be hyphenated? Coulter-Black? I'm not actually adopted yet… but… she's taken care of me as well as she can…"

"Of course, dear. Coulter-Black, I'll make the note on the list." The woman smiled more warmly this time, and nodded, gesturing into the hall. "Best get to it then."

"R-right." Hermione blushed harder, and practically ran to her place, joining Harry and Ron where they were eagerly watching the head table. "What did I miss?" Her whisper startled Ron, who yelped like the foolish boy that he was, but Harry smiled.

"Nothing, but _that's_ Dumbledore, right next to Sirius." Harry whispered back, smiling brightly and waving at his godfather, who only smiled warmly back at both of them, and nodded, instead of making a scene as Harry likely was. "What'd she want?"

"We were just clearing up what name to use for me… you know… because of everything." She shrugged, blushing at her uncle, and then out at the sea of students. Each of the other four tables were over-long, and crowded on both sides by students sporting robe barding of their house colors. Floating above their heads were magical, lit candles, and the ceiling, as she'd read in _Hogwarts, A History_ was enchanted to look like the sky outside. It really was magnificent.

Harry smiled at her, and linked their arms, jovially watching and bouncing with every announcement made, and clapping along with everyone else as the sorting hat was presented. She hadn't a clue about the thing, its presence having been omitted from the book, but suspected that Harry's parents had tipped him off, or perhaps Uncle Sirius. Ron had looked utterly terrified at the mention of sorting, though at the sight of the hat had seemed to relax, despite his glare at the redheaded pair that laughed at the Gryffindor table. She was, unfortunately, the first of the three to be called up for sorting.

"Coulter-Black, Hermione." Professor McGonagall's voice was clear and loud, and she nearly stumbled over a sneering blonde boy's extended foot as she hurried to the stool. The hat itself looked somewhat dingy and dubious, but she'd seen herself that its old creases had formed a face, and it actually spoke. There wouldn't be any avoiding this. Nervously, the girl sat upon the stool, and closed her eyes tightly, not noticing when the old hat obscured what would have been her vision.

_Ah… Another Black child. Interesting, very interesting. Intelligent, very intelligent, just like your mother… stubborn, like all of them…_ The voice in her mind was startling, and she nearly squeaked in shock. _Very powerful too, much potential… but strong morals. Good girl, you are. And friends with the latest Potter boy. Yes, yes you're not hard to place at all. You'll be in… _"Gryffindor!" The abrupt shout rang in her ears, and she realized that a good portion of the hall was clapping, just as they'd done for the few others placed so far. A little shaken from the strange experience and the yell, she removed the hat from her head, grabbed her book bag, and shuffled quickly to her new House table.

"Hermione! Over here!" The two redheaded twins that had been with the other Wealseys at the station gestured eagerly to her… Ron's brothers. "Over here. Ronnikins will sit with us too…"

"If he gets in that is…"

"Right, right, if he gets in…"

"Not much doubt though…"

Their broken speech made her blush, especially as they said the last part in complete unison. "He _is_ a Weasley, after all."

The others in line slowly moved along, the annoying blonde boy that had tried to trip her turning out to be named Draco Malfoy, and it finally came long to Harry. Several people tittered to life with gossip as his name was called, and the obvious resemblance to his apparently famous father was noticed. This was going to go straight to her friend's head. After several long minutes of silence by the hat, though, it finally called out the name of her house, and she gasped out a relieved breath. He quickly joined her, giant smile on his face.

"It almost put me in Hufflepuff, Hermione." He whispered excitedly, sliding into the spot next to her and eagerly turning back to watch as well. "It said I could easily be either, really, but I wanted to be in the same house as you, and all of my family, so it put me here!" He bounced in place, and waved to a green-looking Ron Weasley. "I hope Ron talks to it too. It's a really nice hat."

"Shush, she's calling up the next student." Hermione whispered, smiling happily. She didn't know how she would have handled it, really, if Harry had been in a different house. Beyond having met Ron that morning, he was the only other student she knew. At the head table, Sirius smiled and winked at them both. As the last of the students were all called and sorted, Harry got more and more excited, until it finally came to Ron's turn. The poor boy looked positively ill; it must have been nerve wracking to have to go last.

"Ah, another Weasley. Easy one, that's Gryffindor!" The entire bit was aloud, and Hermione actually laughed along with Harry and the twins as Ron actually fell off of the stool in relief.

"Told you Ron, no worries." Harry crowed, patting the boy hard on the back as he sat down with them. The odd speech from the Headmaster preceded the appearance of a massive feast on the tables, and Hermione took little heed of how foolish some of his words seemed, in favor of looking around happily at her new house-mates. "So you're Ron's brothers?"

"Yup."

"We are"

"He's Fred."

"And he's George."

"Welcome to Gryffindor." The welcome was, once again, in unison, and the boys gave impish, mischievous smiles along with it. "So you're James Potter's kid?"

"Do you play Quidditch too?" They asked excitedly.

"Seeker, just like dad." Harry nodded. "You two?"

"They're both Beaters for the house team." Ron rolled his eyes. "Bloody good at causing trouble, with or without bats, though."

"Ronnikins is keeper,"

"Just like brother Charlie was…"

"Not quite as good yet though…"

"One day, Ronnikins." They cooed, grinning at him again. "How do you know her, though?"

"Black as in Professor Sirius Black?" she was almost sure that Fred had finished for them this time, though they were hard to tell apart.

"He's my godfather, but he said he won't take it easy on me in class…" Harry made a face, obviously having hoped otherwise. "Hermione's uncle."

"How is he as a teacher? He's always so playful when he visits…" Hermione asked softly, glancing at where her uncle was speaking happily with a few other professors.

"He growls a lot, and gets loud if you make trouble." One of the twins winced, glaring at the head table in a semblance of fear.

"He's good though." The other offered, making a similar face.

"If Dumbledore ever retires, or accepts the ministry head position they keep offering him, and McGonagall becomes headmistress… he's in line to take over as Gryffindor Head of House." A boy not far down from the twins offered. "Oliver wood, Keeper and captain of the house team. We look forward to you trying out for the team next year."

"Da and I thinks it's bollocks that I can't join until next year." Harry huffed, stuffing a large forkful of roasted meat into his mouth. "Bollocks."

"Harry!" Hermione chided, scowling. "You're mother would be so disappointed in you."

"Awe Mione, she's not here even!" He whined, pouting at her.

"And don't talk with your mouth full." She chided, smirking, and he huffed, finishing his mouthful and watching, carefully, what he said for the rest of the meal.

* * *

><p>Her first term at Hogwarts had been… astounding, really. She took to magic like a fish to water, and eagerly soaked up any and all information her teachers could offer to her. Harry was a little shocked at how taken with studying and learning the girl was, almost completely disinterested in watching the Quidditch practices with he and Ron, or searching around for the secret passages that the twins had hinted about. They had no clue that Sirius had taken her aside after a month and offered private tutoring on anything she hadn't quite managed to understand yet. It was rarely needed, but he did provide for a cautionary watch when she practiced something that she wasn't quite sure she had mastered. More than once, the Head of House showed up to quietly watch as well, as she eagerly and happily tried charm after charm, or spell after spell, usually that she'd read ahead about, or asked for private notes on. More than once the stern woman was seen walking quietly away from one of those little sessions with a soft, impressed smile on her face.<p>

"Stay at Hogwarts over the winter break, Mione. I've never had you about for a holiday." Sirius's pouting face was uncannily like a puppy's pout, and she rubbed the back of her neck. Honestly, she'd planned to anyhow. Miss Coulter had hinted at considering going out of country for the holiday, on some business trip or other, and it had presented a good opportunity to study. The twins had let her peek at their second year transfiguration and charms books, and she'd considered reading, and possibly experimenting, with so few distractions around.

"You'll be here too?" She asked finally, blushing, and he smiled broadly, gathering quickly what she'd meant. "I was going to practice more…"

"Hermione, you're going to burn yourself out at this rate." He shook his head, chiding her with a fond glare. "It's a break. During this break, you will have at least one meal a day with me, and go outside at least once a day, and… well… get into trouble at least once!"

"Trouble?" Her eyes went wide, and he smirked at her in his usual manner.

"Yes, trouble. I was always finding trouble and mischief when I was at Hogwarts as a student, and I expect you to at least have a little of that bit of fun. According to Minerva, you haven't even attempted to sneak out after hours at least once. Even when you're studying late, or practicing with me, you always manage to get back to your dorm on time." Sirius shook his head forlornly. "Are you really even a Black at all?"

"Oh shush." She blushed brightly, hiding behind her bushy hair. "Maybe I'll get into trouble for you… if you tell me about my mother, finally." Her cheeks flamed brighter. "You never talk about her, or how we really are related."

"You won't like it, Mione. It's not a pleasant story." His words were whispered, and he stroked long fingers through her hair gently. "You're so young to hear something like that."

"You always say that, Uncle Sirius." She huffed, leaning against him. "I've already figured out she really didn't want me, and isn't a good person… is she in… um… that prison you mentioned?"

"Azkaban?" His eyes were wide, and she nodded timidly, seeing the surprise and panic in his gaze. She was right, her mother was somehow a wizarding criminal. "I… yes." The shame in is voice sounded even deeper, and she swallowed hard. "I put her there, Mione… I'm sorry, but I had to." She swallowed hard, tears coming to her eyes, and nodded. "That's not why I love you though! You're my niece, and I'd love you no matter what. I don't do this because of guilt." She nodded sadly again.

"You won't tell me what she did, will you?" He shook his head, jaw set stubbornly. "What was her name?"

"She was my sister, before she did that… that's all you need to know." He murmured, and gently kissed the top of her head. "You should have been my daughter, not hers. Now, happier subjects, hmm? You already know that Minerva is an animagus, and there are rumors that I am as well… well I should finally confirm that, to you and Harry at least. I am, though I don't show most people what I look like… it was one of my best tools as an Auror."

"Really?" She asked, clearing her eyes, and he nodded, smiling at her. "Will you show me?"

"Over the holiday, with less people to walk in and see as well." He nodded. "Snivelus has seen as well, but he doesn't like talking about that…. Harry's father saved his life that day."

"Who was my father? You always just said it was some Muggle." Hermione wrinkled her nose at the memory. Sirius was always flippant about that detail.

"He was. None of us knew his name. Your mother met him when drunk on firewhiskey, and they didn't stay in touch. She thought he was a squib, but he was just a Muggle with a last name similar to a pureblood family… or that's what everyone says." He shrugged. "Enough of that, Mione, seriously. Let's go have some butterbeer."

"I'm too young for butterbeer." Hermione complained, smiling softly as he led her out of the defense room and toward the kitchens. It wouldn't be her first try of the drink, though she only drank any when he provided the bottle himself, and only ever one. She wasn't more than eleven, after all.

* * *

><p>"Troll!" The frightened cries of students filled the meal hall as several Hufflepuffs came screaming in through the doors. "There's a troll in the dungeon! We saw Darks let it in! They're heading for the Herbology greenhouses!"<p>

Hermione's eyes widened, and she stared around at the panicking students, the professors all attempting to gain a manner of control over them. Swallowing hard, she noticed Sirius, Professor Sprout, and Professor Snape all rushing off through a side door, hopefully to handle one of the two threats. Knowing her uncle, he'd probably gone off to deal with the Dark Wizards, as it had been his job before, and any number of the other professors could have handled a troll… or so she hoped. Could Hargid? He knew all about magical creatures… surely he could do something. Belatedly, she realized that the half-giant professor wasn't even seated at the head table, and hadn't been for the entire meal.

"Harry… Harry!" She hissed, eyes wide and reaching for her wand. The boy looked at her with wide, excited eyes, not nearly as frightened as most of the others seemed to be. "We have to find Hagrid. Where did he say he would be today?"

"He's catching glow-snakes for tomorrow's lesson." He whispered, looking confused, but still excited. "Why Hagrid? And they're telling us to follow the prefects to the dorms, we'll miss the whole thing!"

"Hagrid is the Magical Creatures professor, you nit. He should be able to take care of a troll no problem." She hissed, and quickly slunk under the table, dragging him under with her. Belatedly, she noticed Ron slink down with them as well. "What're you doing?"

"I'm you two's friend too!" Ron hissed, looking more frightened than Harry, but just as stubborn. "I'm going!"

"Ugh, fine, but don't point your wand at me. It backfires your spells half the time… I don't know how you've been passing this year." She hissed, scowling, and crawled forward, sneaking out around the Hufflepuffs as everyone bustled about and attempted to leave in an orderly fashion amidst their panic. "We're trying to find Hagrid. You're keen in his class, Ronald, where would he be hunting down glow-snakes?"

Ron actually blushed to match his hair at her passive compliment, and mumbled something about the abandoned corridors near the dungeons… as the dungeons themselves would have too much noise and student traffic for the snakes to take residence there. She nodded, keeping to the shadows and ducking away any time they heard footsteps, forlorn when she realized that no one seemed to be heading in their direction as well. Was no one searching for Hagrid, or had he already been found? Was he not in the direction they were going? What was that _noise_ ahead, it sounded bloody awful.

"Mione… I think…"

"Merlin, that's a mountain troll…" Ron's gasped shock had her skidding to a stop, staring up at the huge, hulking creature that had been bent over to attempt to catch… Mrs. Norris? What the bloody hell was Filch's cat doing over here, and with the troll? Whatever was going on, the creature attempted another poor swipe at the hissing feline, groaning and gnashing slobbery teeth at it.

"It's going to eat Mrs. Norris." She hissed at them, eyes wide, and trying to figure out how they could back away and run without being noticed. "Move very slowly… and hope she gets away too." Ron snorted, but the boys tried to do as she said, Harry carefully maneuvering her behind him as they did so. "If she dies, Ronald, Filch will be devastated, so you better hope, damn you."

"Mione… shut up…" Harry whimpered, pushing her back a little faster. Unfortunately, the blasted cat ran directly at them, and at the little hall alcove that they'd been aiming at. All three students gaped, eyes wide, as the cat not only gave away their position, but provided them as the new prey for the troll to focus on. A disgusting, moaning roar accompanied it noticing them, and Hermione squeaked. "Bloody hell… what now… duck!"

All three of them dove away as the large club came hurling in their direction, the hall barely giving the troll room to maneuver, though it was certainly not to tall for the space. In a panic, Harry whipped out his own wand, attempting to shoot off a hex at the creature that he'd learned in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Ron groaned, grabbing her arm and pulling her tight against the crumbling wall as the boy did so.

"Harry, don't!" Ron's cry was too late though, and the hex actually bounced off of the troll's skin, ricocheting around the hallway, much as those sparks had that first day in the wand shop. Ron groaned again, clinging to Hermione's arm. "Hexes don't work on troll… Hagrid said that first day when he was babbling."

"Bloody hell he did…" Hermione hissed, shocked that the boy remembered something she hadn't. "but… charms… he said charms work, didn't he?"

"Yeah…" Ron winced, and watched in fright as Harry dodged two more angry swings of the creature's club. His freckled face screwed up in concentration as she tried to figure out how to get her friend away from the troll before they attempted to either distract or subdue it. "Giggling! The tickle charm!" He jumped away from the wall, whipping his wand out and pointed it at the imposing creature. Swallowing hard, she grabbed the hissing cat and tried to edge closer to where she could pull Harry back if Ron's spell worked. "R- _Rictusempra!_"

In his hands, the wand sputtered, and purple sparks exploded from the tip, but nothing more happened… beyond the troll's attention suddenly focusing on him. "Harry!" Hermione screamed, wincing as Mrs. Norris dug her claws in, and the boy nodded, wielding his wand at the troll and mimicking Ron's attempt at a spell. She breathed out in relief, as the troll froze in place before spasming, and letting out strange, gargling noises that must have been its imitation of a laugh. As the club dropped with a loud bang to the floor, and she heard footsteps come rushing in their direction, she noticed Harry's spell weakening as the spasms lessened. Swishing her wand and flicking it at the club, she fried as loudly as she could, "_Wingardium Leviosa_!" The club shuddered, then rose quickly into the air, and she directed it to smack directly in the creature's face as it moved upward, lifting it as high as she could make it go before suddenly releasing the spell.

The club dropped, pounding directly off of the creature's hard head as it went, and after a heart-clenching moment, the troll followed its weapon to the ground, thudding just feet away from her and a frozen Ron. "Miss Black! Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter!" McGonagall's voice was shocked and frightened, and Hermione collapsed against the mostly in-tact wall, clutching a mewling Mrs. Norris to her chest and stroking the cat's back with her wand hand. She felt like her heart might very well hammer its way out of her chest, but at least Mrs. Norris had stopped digging in and was actually purring now. "What are you doing out of your dorms! Merlin it's unconscious!"

"You three are very lucky to still be alive." Dumbledor rumbled in a soft, affectionate tone, gently pulling the cat out of Hermione's grip and sending it on its way. "Why didn't you retire to your dorms as was instructed in the meal hall?" He glanced curiously at Flitwick as the short professor carefully inspected the troll, assuring it remained subdued. "And how, exactly, did you manage to take down a fully grown mountain troll on your own?"

"H-h-hermione… w-wanted t-to find H-h-hagrid…" Ron stammered, still frozen in place and staring in fright at the huge troll. "She-she-she…"

"I thought he was the best to send after the troll." She stammered, cutting the boy off and looking in concern at her two friends. Harry seemed alright, if a bit bruised, and Ron mostly looked scared out of whatever wits he had originally possessed. "He's the Magical Creatures professor, and wasn't at dinner, so I didn't think he'd know about the troll… I thought he'd be needed."

"So you felt it was necessary to go looking for him… near where the troll was said to be?" McGonagall's shrill cry made Hermione wince, and she slowly stood, feeling her body ache from the fear and tumbling it had undergone.

"He was supposed to be looking for glow-snakes for tomorrow's lesson… we thought it was supposed to still be in the dungeons, so we went after him in these corridors… it must have made it's way higher to get here… it was trying to catch and eat Mrs. Norris." Hermione swallowed, ducking her head. "We would have run away too, like those other students did… but it saw us."

"How exactly did you three manage to subdue this creature?" Professor Flitwick asked, noting the bleeding lump on its head. "I haven't taught any first years the charms necessary to battle a troll."

"Well… Ron remembered that they're immune to most hexes, at least that we would know…" Hermione nodded at the redheaded boy, still in shock, who whimpered at the reminder of his own part. "And tried the tickling charm you taught us last week… but… his wand backfired again, so Harry had to do it."

"It worked?" McGonagall's voice was shocked, and she looked at her three students again, then at the creature.

"For a bit… not long." Harry admitted. "I guess it wasn't powerful enough…" He shrugged and then smiled sheepishly at Hermione. "She used wingardium to levitate it's club a few times at it's hard head… knocked it out."

"The three of you are _very_ foolish and _very_ lucky." McGonagall hissed at them, ushering them up and away from the creature and its stench. "To the mediwitch with all of you, to be checked over. That's twenty points from Gryffindor apiece for your foolishness and disobeying direct instructions for your safety." All three of them winced, and began shuffling shamefully away. Hermione didn't notice the smiling glance between the three professors that had found them, but the next words filled her aching, panicky chest with warmth. "And a hundred points total to Gryffindor for sheer bravery and luck in taking that vile creature down alone. I'll assure that Filch knows that you saved Mrs. Norris as well." Hermione blushed brightly, and hurried her friends along with her as well. Sirius had wanted her to get in trouble… well… he'd gotten his wish.

**_TBC_**


	3. Part the Second: Chapter 2

**_Disclaimer in preface._**

* * *

><p>"Come on Ron, you're letting us do this and stop whining about it." Harry complained, smiling brightly. "It's a <em>birthday<em> gift, you have to accept it." He continued, dragging the redheaded boy along after him. They'd been in school for four years together, and little though it always seemed in comparison to that first mischief against the mountain troll, they'd always found ways to get into at least a bit of trouble amidst their fun. Hermione had, luckily, also managed to develop a talent that infuriated them: she always managed to worm away from the scene or hide just before they were caught, and rarely was in quite as much trouble as they were.

"I'm buying you a new wand, and you can't object." Hermione told him in a haughty tone, running her hand nervously through her hair. Uncle Sirius had gifted her with a special serum he'd claimed her mother always used to control unruly hair before it had calmed with maturity. She'd started using it, of course, with surprising results, but the soft curls and manageable state of her hair now made her a bit nervous; she was _sure_ everyone had to be staring at her and wondering why she'd bothered. "You've gone through _two_ hand-me-downs from your brothers with your wands, Ronald. Two. This last one didn't even last you a year before the unicorn hair in it died out from use. I'm giving you your own, having _chosen _you, wand from Ollivander's this year, and you'll take good care of it."

"Thanks, Mione." He whispered, blushing brightly. She rolled her eyes, reminded of Harry's teasing that the boy probably had a crush on her. The three of them were best friends, she hadn't any interest in dating, especially them. "I… thanks."

"And I'm finally getting you an owl. You haven't had a familiar since Mrs. Norris ate Scabbers, and you practically drool any time you pass by the Menagerie." Harry bragged. "I'd have gotten you your own broom, but Charlie sent you his old Nimbus, and that thing's better than anything my parents would let me afford."

"You guys are bloody perfect." Ron mumbled, still bright red, and Harry laughed, pushing the boy into Ollivanders.

"Alright, you two have fun… I remember too well how much sparking and shooting around wands do while you're settling with one… I'm going to go get us some chocolate frogs." Harry laughed, leaving the both of them alone in the shop, Ron paling dramatically at Harry's implication.

"Ah… Miss Coulter-Black… lovely to see you. And how is that excitable thing you paired up with?" Ollivander smiled kindly at Hermione, seeming to pop up out of nowhere. Ron gave a cowardly cry of fright at his sudden appearance. "Good afternoon, Mr. Weasley, pleasure to finally see you in here."

"It's wonderful, Mr. Ollivander, thank-you." Hermione smiled sheepishly, caressing the warm leather of her arm holster. "Ron's here for his first real wand… they've been passing down unicorn hair wands to him… and the things have been rather difficult for him to work with."

"Ah yes, unicorn can be like that when it hasn't its chosen master…" Ollivander nodded thoughtfully, sizing the boy up, who stared back nervously. "Bright girl you are, always thought so. You'd make a lovely apprentice some day, if that's what you so chose… but I have a feeling you won't be going into wand making yourself… ho-hum. Mr. Weasley, I believe I've a wand just waiting for you to try." Glancing around cautiously and mumbling to himself, the man quickly found an old, battered looking box from high in one of the stacks. Hermione stepped away, wary, as a pretty, white wand was produced from it. The thing looked quite elegant, considering that its box looked like it had seen better days. "Aspen, with dragon scales as its core, fifteen inches, inflexible."

Ron carefully picked it up, dropping the thing in fright as the tip of the wand sputtered angrily. "N-not that one, I think." Ron gasped, watching as the old man carefully picked the wand back up, sliding it into its old case. "Thanks."

"Of course of course. Can take time, sometimes." Ollivander nodded, replacing the wand where it had come from and searching around again. "Hmm… this seems a good fit. Laurel, male unicorn mane for the hair at its core, thirteen inches, swishy." Ron, keeping in mind how the first had reacted, and Harry's joking tales of his own trip into the shop with Hermione, reluctantly reached for the box and wand within. The thing looked even older and more tattered than the box that had held the first, but as Ron carefully picked up the wand, it actually emitted a beautiful, soft melody as if singing. "Ah yes, yes, second try. Give it a go, something small mind you."

"Erm… _wingardium leviosa_," Ron reluctantly cast at the box's lid, levitating it up in the air and dropping it onto the box's bottom. "Wow."

"Yes, quite. That wand has been a pain to place… very picky about its weilder, that one. Mind you, boy, Laurels do not stand for laziness, so I'll hope you're ready for a few shocks should you leave it idle too long." The man nodded, dusting off the box a bit more, and Hermione smiled brightly, eyes twinkling at the thought that Ron would have to be a bit less lazy with the thing in his possession. "Very good wand, though, very good. Laurels are never dishonorable, quite powerful. Should be proud."

"And an arm holster for him as well." Hermione instructed. "I don't want him falling and breaking it with it flopping around in his robes." She winked at her friend, who was blushing, and offered the galleons to pay. "My birthday gift to him should be well kept, after all."

"Of course, of course. Did you need me to inspect yours to see how it's fairing then?" Ollivander asked, rifling under a counter and producing a sleek, black arm holster. "Better with that hair than the other color, boy. Here." She smiled, offering the wand from her own holster for him to inspect, though it seemed to give off sparks angrily at being handled by another. "No one else has touched it since I first brought it home with me."

"Good, and in fine condition. Well cared for. Here have it back." The old man smiled indulgently at her, and she carefully returned it to its place. "Now off with you, and a happy birthday to Mr. Weasley there."

"Thanks, Mione." He was still blushing brightly, even as Harry appeared next to them and offered a handful of chocolate frogs. "I… thanks."

"No bother, it's a gift… especially after you've made me appreciate what a proper, loyal wand is like. You'll love it." She smiled brightly and bit into her first chocolate frog, offering the wizard card it came with idly to the boys. They weren't much interest to her.

"Alright, you wanted an owl, right?" Harry asked with a happy smile, nudging both of them into the shop and laughing as Hermione looked contemplatively at where she'd seen that little fox thing those years ago. He was surprised when she didn't even move to check to see if another was available, especially as they were in a high enough year that her having a fox as a familiar probably wouldn't be an issue. Ron nodded eagerly, though, and the three of them were quickly immersed in picking out the right owl for him.

"Dinner together before we have to floo back?" Harry suggested once they'd finally picked out the perfect bird. Hermione thought the bay owl looked an awful lot like a barn owl that had had its markings extended into small ear tufts, but didn't say anything to that effect. "Da said he's having your whole family over for dessert and a party in celebration."

"I'd love to, but I'll be there for the party." Hermione blushed, ducking her head as the boys turned to look at her in surprise. "I had one last thing to do, in private. I'll be there for the party, I promise."

"Alright… we'll see you there?" Ron looked forlornly at her, and she nodded as happily as she could, ushering them away. By the time she'd gotten them off and toward one of the cafés, she knew she was going to be late. The floo powder made her eyes sting when she'd found her way back to the public-use fireplace, but she still managed to say the name of her location clearly.

"Blacks' Grimmauld Mannor." She called, and coughed her way out of the other end once she'd finally arrived. "I hate floo travel." The chuckles made her squint in her uncle's direction, and he helped to clear her eyes and throat with a few quick charms. "I hate floo travel." The repeated words made the man chuckle again, and he gently hugged her to his side. "Hullo, Uncle Sirius."

"I almost didn't think you'd be coming, no matter what your owl letter said." He chided, gesturing away from the living area and toward the basement steps. "I hadn't expected you to be ready so soon, after all."

"I don't know if I am, but I'm as far as I can get without actual practice." She shifted nervously, and glanced at him warily. "I don't know how the three of you managed it back then… on your own." He chuckled. "I'm going to have to register, like you, once I manage it, aren't I?"

"I won't make you until you've graduated." He comforted, smoothing her hair and smiling fondly. "As a father figure I _should_… but I'm a firm believer in innocent mischief while at school, and at least I'm helping you with this… which mind you no one can ever know."

"Just like they can't know about Mr. Potter either." She sighed and nodded, a stubborn expression settling on her features. "Do you think he's taught Harry yet?"

"Not likely. I doubt young Harry even knows." Sirius chuckled, pulling out his wand and gesturing for her to put her own on a nearby table, already aware that she didn't allow others to handle it. "Lily would kill him. You've practiced wandless transfiguration?"

"Only at the Potters' and here, like you said." Sirius nodded. "They'd really threaten to take my wand away for underage magic?" The man nodded grimly again, and gestured to the center of the room.

"They can't quite tell _who_ does the magic in a household, without more spies and spells than they're able to place on every budding witch and wizard's home, so they assume that wizarding parents will keep their children in line. However, it's blatantly obvious when a muggle born… or rather in your case, muggle _raised_… student does magic. No one else in the household is capable." He sighed. "And normally, even I would restrict against underage magic outside of school, as it can be dangerous… but you're a gifted enough girl that I trust you. Now… first try. I'm here to change you back."

Hermione sighed, nodded, and closed her eyes. Enough distraction. It took effort, and concentration, to identify and pull from where her magic always seemed to flow, to mimic the feel of how it moved through her, and focused through her wand. Wandless magic was supposed to be quite difficult, especially once the body and mind had gotten used to using such a convenient focusing tool, but it was possible. She'd managed, several times, to do her transfiguration practices without her wand, though it had usually caused a headache and exhaustion to do so.

After agonizing moments had passed, a strange lurch overcame her body, and the girl twisted and writhed, shrinking rapidly within her clothing. Sirius sighed, already knowing that the first try was a failure, and waited for her to finish her change. A tiny head with large ears poked its way out of the neck of her shirt, blinked at him, and made to run for it, and Sirius absently cast his own spell at it, transfiguring Hermione back into her human form. He closed his eyes and turned away as soon as he was assured she was whole. "How do you feel?"

"F- fine, I suppose." She quickly slid into the most necessary of her clothing, not bothering to make it neat, as she was fairly sure this would happen a few more times. "How did you know it went wrong?"

"Your clothing transfigures with you, as an Animagus. Sometimes, when you're getting close, or someone else transfigures you, they'll shift with a basic animal transfiguration… but they always shift as an Animagus." He sighed and peeked at her, nodding. "Ready?" She nodded, swallowing hard, and tried again. She'd been reading the old, tattered notes he'd given her for almost a year now, initially having been shocked that they 'found their way into her bag' after one of their meetings. She knew how it was supposed to work, supposed to feel, but even as she felt herself transfiguring, she absently noted his sigh, and new it was going to be a long afternoon.

"My ears still itch from the last time." She whispered as they stepped out of the Potters' fireplace, ignoring the irritating Floo Powder that had gotten in her face again. "Did any part of you itch when you were practicing?"

"My spine, from my tail growing and shrinking." He admitted with a soft chuckle. "Don't worry so much, poppet. You'll get the hang of this eventually. It took James and I months." Hermione only grumbled, scratching again at her ears that felt too large for the skin that stretched over them, and thus… kept itching. It had been a long, exhausting practice, and it was going to be a long evening, with Ron's birthday celebration getting underway.

It was still two months before the start of school, and though her foster mother never much minded when Hermione would disappear for a night or three, off with her magical friends, the woman did begin to comment when the girl was gone for several hours each day at the least. Finally, Sirius began to come to pick her up directly from the house, instead of meeting her at the park nearby, as had been done for so long. After meeting the dark, imposing man, the woman complained less, and even offered the occasional invitation to dinner, as uncomfortable as he obviously made her. Hermione was grateful for the time with the three of them, worried as she was over the lack of progress with her current trials. She didn't know how, or when, she would get the opportunity to practice once school had started again.

"Concentrate, mione!" Sirius growled, glaring as she tried for the eighth time that day. One week, only _one_ week until the start of term, and she'd only just managed to start including her clothing in her transformations. "Concentrate!"

She growled even as she heard his frustrated sigh, feeling the itching, uncomfortable sensation take over her body again. Sounds became too loud, smells too strong, and as her eyes opened they seemed to see so much less. Her mind actually managed to hold for a moment, staring in annoyance back at him, before fear of the imposing figure before her took over, and basic instincts began to settle into her mind, name, memories, disappearing. He huffed and flicked his wand at her, startling her tiny form, and she was transfigured back into her human shape. "I'd concentrate better without you growling, you know." She grumped at him, shifting uncomfortably and panting. Her entire body itched this time, not just her ears. He looked at her pointedly, before a small grin overtook his features. "What!"

"Your nose is more pointed than it used to be." He observed, making her hands fly up to her face. "It was never big, Mione, but it's cute and pointed now." She blushed brightly. "Keep at it… again, Mione. I'll try to say calm."

She huffed at him, brushing back her bushy hair, not having bothered with the serum. She'd learned, quickly, that too many transformations back and forth were too much for the hair-soothing serum to keep up. Attempting to calm her mind, slow her heart beat, she concentrated again, as hard as she could. Slowly, the sensation of changing overtook her body again, and she squeaked at his lack of sigh. As the scents and sounds began to overwhelm her, she blinked blearily up at him. Her sight wasn't wonderful, in this form, but she was aware long enough this time, at least, to notice that it was mostly disorientation that seemed to hamper her vision. Heart beating frantically, she realized that her logical thought had managed to remain, and she shivered in place, waiting for her human mind to start disappearing again.

Wordlessly, Sirius clapped, and settled his wand aside to shift forms himself, quickly disappearing into a large, shaggy, black dog. It frightened her for only a moment before she recognized the strengthening of his natural scent. Sirius. Uncle Sirius. Not a threat… she was human, she was Hermione… not a fox. Large ears twitched, and she looked curiously at the larger creature in front of her, bushy tail flickering from side to side. _Mione? Can you understand me, or have you just changed so often that this form isn't scared of me anymore?_

She jumped in place, startled, and stared at him, ears quirked in his direction. She'd understood him! The soft grumbling huff that had left the large dog's lips had somehow translated, along with a gesture and glance, into actual words. He'd said that animagi could communicate in animal form. _Sirius? Did I do it?_

The gruff bark of laughter was jovial, if still startling to her now enhanced hearing, and he shifted quickly back. "Yes! Mione you did it this time! Try to change back."

She did. She really did try, but all that managed to happen was nearly giving herself a strain, the occasional strange yip sounding from her tiny muzzle. Staring forlornly up at him, he still smiled and shook his head, flicking his wand again. "I tried, though… the same _bloody_ thing I've been doing _all_ summer."

"Not all summer, Mione love, just a few months…" he smirked and gently hugged her to him. "You have to get used to how magic flows through your animal form now, dearling. We'll take a break for a moment, and then if you can do it again, I'll change you back, and concentrate on how that magic _feels_, alright?" She pouted, but nodded, grateful that she'd finally, at least, managed to achieve half of her goal. "We do eventually have to figure out what it is that you are though, Mione. You're the tiniest fluffy thing I've ever seen, even if you did say that your Patronus looked like a fox you once saw in the Menagerie." She glared at him. "You look like a Chihuahua with a bushy tail and extra fur!" Unbidden, a soft growl emerged from her, and he laughed further. "Oh so scary."

"Bloody bastard." She grumbled, blushing and looking away. "I'm not a Chihuahua." He laughed harder, ushering her upstairs for their midday meal.

**_TBC_**


	4. Chapter 3

**_Disclaimer in preface._**

* * *

><p>She looked nervously at her friends, careful to keep her hair down, and settled Jareth in his cage with the rest of their things. They'd learned, after their first paranoid years, that the birds were always safe with the rest of their luggage. Ron hadn't noticed anything different really, but Harry had asked her if something had changed, if she was wearing makeup, or <em>something<em> because she somehow looked different. Sirius's analytical gaze, already knowing what to look for, what to compare with, had mentioned the slightest lightening of her dark brown hair, her ears a bit bigger and pointed, though thankfully not to a strange or unattractive degree, and the slightest pointing of her nose. She'd been given several warnings the previous weekend before he'd gone back to Hogwarts. She was not to attempt her change with anyone nearby, nor when she couldn't get to him, as she still hadn't learned to change back on her own… and she was never to cross paths with Minerva McGonagall when transformed.

As always, the ride to school was pleasant- half filled with her friends' babble, half with studying ahead in her latest school books. She'd, of course, read ahead in all of them, especially in transfiguration. It had become habit to acquire the next year's book set, as much as she could predict them, as soon as she'd come home from school. A few times she'd had to fetch something different or new when the year list came, but having extras was never bad in her opinion. Her current reading material was Transfiguration, however, in hopes of further understanding how the magic worked, and getting a better grasp on her shift from fox to human.

"… and they're supposed to be from the other three well-known schools." Ron was babbling, surprising her into finally paying attention. Hazel eyes moved up to look at him curiously, and he huffed in annoyance. "You never listen when I talk, Mione! I was saying about the transfer students we're supposed to get! Transfers, Hermione!"

"What?" She swallowed, frowning. That was… odd.

"Well, Dark Wizard skirmishes are more common now… all those dark magic terrorist groups… pure blood supremacy… creature blood supremacy… creature blood haters… muggle suppression groups…" Ron babbled, ticking off the various 'causes' that the dark wizard groups attempted to crow about. She rolled her eyes. "Anyway… Dumbledore wanted to create more alliance within the wizarding world, and spoke with the heads of three other big wizarding schools. They've started an exchanging program for sixth and seventh years. We'll be getting five or six students from each of the schools, I think. Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Mahoutokoro." Hermione blinked, wondering how, exactly, the boy always seemed to get his information. Sirius hadn't mentioned anything of the sort to her in all of their practices.

"When will they be arriving?" She blinked again, still in a small state of shock, and noticed Harry looking at her strangely. Ducking her head, she angled her face more toward her book, and gazed at Ron over it. The boy blushed oddly.

"Erm… next week or so… they wanted to place the first years and get them settled first." Ron stammered. "I…"

"Well it will certainly be a distraction. We've to begin studying for our OWLS, and _exciting_ foreign students will only distract from that." She huffed, frowning. Wonderful, more people to worry about while she was trying to gain control over her shifting. At least she'd learned a few extra passageways from the twins and along with her friends over the years.

"Awe Mione… OWLS aren't until the end of fifth year!" Ron complained with a wailing pout.

"We _are_ fifth years, Ronald." She huffed, glaring at the small lettering of the book, not bothering to concentrate on it yet. He was going to keep whining.

"I know, but it's the end of the year! We can have a _little_ fun before then…" He was pouting still, but she promptly ignored him, sighing. Why had Sirius given her the animagus notes just before her OWLS year anyway? Now she'd be half concentrating on that, if she couldn't finish before the real studying had to begin. It was bad enough that she'd have to help her friends, as she knew they'd delay until the very last moment. Didn't they understand that this test placed them in their classes and aptitude for the next two years of school? And those years determined their potential placement in any jobs and lives they might have wanted to have after they'd left Hogwarts? Even Harry wasn't planning to go into professional Quidditch, like his father, so he should at least start planning for some kind of future.

"Mione…" Ron's whine made her huff and growl, burrowing further in with her book, just wishing she could curl up in a hole somewhere private and get away from his whimpering. Foolish boy.

The announcement at dinner about the foreign students coming to the school was met with surprise and applause, though eerily enough all of the Weasleys had simply smiled knowingly. Apparently Ron hadn't been the only one in the loop. She glanced in annoyance at Sirius, who'd only winked, and sighed. It wasn't as if they'd spent much time talking about school beyond what was needed to be known about for her new partial ability. People were still gossiping about it when they retired to bed that evening, and in class the next day, and the next, and for the remainder of the week, eagerly awaiting the arrival of their transfer students.

"Hermione… what do you think they'll be like?" Ginny asked excitedly, Hermione's nose once again buried in one of her books. This time it was one she'd _borrowed_ from Sirius, dealing with the history of dark magic defenses throughout the ages. The chapter on warded and booby-trapped strongholds was completely fascinating. "Mione!"

"Sorry, what?" She glanced up distractedly, nose twitching. The redheaded girl looked at her in bewildered annoyance. "You were asking me something, Ginny?"

"Yeah, I was wondering what you thought the new students were going to be like, but I suspect that you haven't much thought on it at _all_, damn you." Ginny huffed, forcing the book closed. "The other schools weren't willing to let outsiders in yet, so it's just a trial run here… so these are as good as _spies_ until it becomes a full program, Mione. Spies from other schools!"

"Ginny, they're probably just like us, just culturally different… really." Hermione huffed, and glared at the girl, turning to eat her breakfast as she'd been interrupted from her reading. "And in their place, all of this gossip and attention would only make me uncomfortable, instead of feeling welcome, so I don't see the point in becoming so overwhelmed by it. It's just to promote diversity, Ginny."

"You're no fun, Hermione." Ginny complained with a playful pout. "Don't you at least wonder if some of them are cute?"

"Not particularly." Hermione grumbled, pulling more hard-boiled eggs onto her plate. She hadn't quite been able to get enough of eggs and meat since she'd started her efforts with her uncle, and suspected the changes it had made to her body had included her appetite. At least her fox form was tiny, which meant that even if she'd never grow particularly tall, she was also less likely to put on bulk. Ginny had turned to gossip with other girls, apparently giving up on Hermione, when the doors swung open, and Hagrid entered proudly with a large gaggle of foreign students behind him. "Lovely…"

"Ah, students, it would appear our guests have finally arrived!" Dumbledore's happy announcement garnered just as much attention as the entrance had, and hushed gossip erupted through the students' ranks. "Welcome, one and all, to Hogwarts. I am Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster. We are pleased to welcome the students of Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, and Mahoutokoro into our halls. Here at Hogwarts, we have a tradition of sorting students by houses, to promote familial bonds." He smiled, eyes twinkling, and Hermione huffed, knowing that he had confessed, more than once, to her uncle that he believed that the houses drove people apart more than brought them together. "We shall allow for you to partake of this tradition today, and welcome you to our house tables."

The students all looked around curiously, their odd uniforms marking them as even further out of place among the English students. Idly, Hermione wondered how many other schools had not been included, or agreed, to this. Surely the four of them couldn't nearly cover the vast array of languages and cultures around the world, or even simply Eurasia. Slowly, stunned at the entire procedure, each of the transfer students was called to the traditional seat, and fitted with the Sorting Hat, which had not bothered to sing them a welcome song as it had done for the first years during the welcome feast.

"One of those Beauxbatons girls got sorted into our house…" Ron whispered in wide-eyed fascination, practically drooling as he looked over at the blonde girl that sat primly with the prefects. Hermione hadn't failed to notice it, considering that most of the others from her school had been sorted to Ravenclaw, just as Durmstrang had seemed to either go to Slytherin or Hufflepuff, oddly. She'd noticed that the Mahoutokoro students were actually split evenly among the houses, four students having been sent, and each having managed to land in a different House. She wondered how awkward that was going to be for the foreign students, separated from those that were their only chance at familiarity. They were probably cursing Dumbledore and the school's traditions right about then.

"You've got a bit of drool Ron, just there…" Ginny teased, giggling, and her brother flailed, attempting to wipe his face off.

"Oh, you haven't, stop swinging your clumsy limbs about." Hermione rolled her eyes, smirking at the other girl when Ron stopped and began pouting, not only at his sister's joke, but at Hermione's words. "It's not as if she'll even notice you down here, Ron. She's focused on her food and whatever it is the prefects are telling her, and there are loads of students between us." Ron only pouted more, glaring at her for the earlier insult. "Besides, it's bloody creepy to be stared at, and all of the foreign students will be getting plenty enough of that. You'd impress her more by _not_ staring like a buffoon."

"Mione…" He whimpered, pouting at her again, and she rolled her eyes, Ginny giggling next to her. "I… It's not like I would date her… You know I…"

"Wouldn't finish that sentence, bloke." Harry whispered, noticing the glare flashing in Hermione's eyes. "Mione, what were you reading before they came in? We've Charms first, don't we?"

"Yes, and then double defense with Uncle." She nodded, then glanced sadly down at the book in her lap, noting people starting to finally disperse from the meal hall to head away to class. "Just… just a bit of light reading…"

"Oh Merlin, every time she _sighs_ like that and says it's light reading…" Ron cringed. "Whatever you've got, keep it away from me. Bloody nutter about books, you are."

Hermione glared at him, a soft growl in her throat, and stormed away from the table, leaving the remainder of her food uneaten. She'd get a boiled egg, and perhaps a bit of fruit, from the kitchens later if necessary. Behind her, she heard Harry scolding the boy angrily over upsetting her, as she'd been "distant" enough without Ron's foot in his mouth.

* * *

><p>Perfect… Just. Bloody. <em>Perfect<em>. She'd thought she'd gotten used to most of the antics of the ghosts and creatures of the castle, having been there for years already. She was wrong, of course. Why wouldn't she be? _Just bloody perfect!_ She let out a tiny, chittering growl. Despite knowing that something of the sort would probably happen -likely all too regularly for the first month or so- when Peeves had gone rocketing down the hallway, clanging against anything loud and metal, rattling pictures, and knocking over at least one of the suits of armor (his idea of a welcome for the new students and foreigners) it had startled her completely out of her wits. She'd nearly shrieked, gasping instead, and after an odd hiccough, her entire form had seemed to pop… and she'd shifted down to a fox faster than any of her purposeful attempts thus far. Luckily, the ghastly annoyance hadn't even noticed her existence in his passing. _I wonder if Uncle Sirius or Mr. Potter ever changed involuntarily when they were learning._

Of a sudden, Peeves came rushing back the way he'd gone, dodging the occasional blast of spell light. His laughter seemed a bit strained, but was loud and grating nevertheless, and she curled tightly back in an alcove, ears lain flat against her as the loud noises pounded in her senses. The ghost's volume even managed to drown out the stomping approach of whomever he'd upset this time, and she curled tighter into the shadows, startled by another student's unexpected appearance. As Peeves dove through one of the walls, still cackling nervously, the blonde girl slid to an angry halt, cursing at the spot he'd disappeared through in shrill French. Hermione cringed, analyzing where the nearest secret passage would be that she could access in this form, willing with all her might that the girl would not notice her.

"Eugh! I shall _Petrify_ zat eevil leetle excuse for a goul ze next time I see `eem!" she snarled, and Hermione couldn't help the slight flinch she gave at the thought, already anticipating the trouble waging a vendetta against the troublesome ghoul would create. Unfortunately, the movement drew the angry girl's attention to her dark recess, and the infuriated expression twisted to one of annoyance and disgust. "Lovely. You would zink zat wiz so many felines `ere, zere would be no vermin in ze castle."

Hermione's ears popped up in shock, and she uncurled, hissing an angry almost-growl at the girl. The blonde's eyes widened as more light caught Hermione's form, revealing her to be anything but a wild rat or mouse, and Hermione yipped at her indignantly before leaping away to run off. She didn't hear any words, not even murmured, but the soft swish and gust sound offered the slightest warning that the French girl had moved… and even as she lept to the side to avoid any attempt at catching her, Hermione found herself airborne, floating backward toward the blonde.

"What `ave we `ere?" The lilting accent was just as surprised as Hermione felt, and she hiss-growled softly as she was turned around by whatever spell had sent her aloft, floating before the blonde girl. Belatedly she realized that it was the blonde Beauxbatons girl that had been sorted into Gryffindor, and she writhed a little in an attempt to throw off the spell. "You are certainly no vermin, oui? Someone's pet or familiar, per'aps?" The girl tilted her head, smirking. "Lost, maybe? `ave you lost your way, leetle one? Zat eevil goul no doubt nearly crushed you wiz ze mess `e was making." Hermione huffed, resigning herself to waiting to be released. "We are in ze `all leading to ze Gryffindor rooms, so you are eizer belonging to someone zere, or spying poorly on someone zere." Hermione huffed again, and was surprised when the spell was dropped, and she with it, though soft, pale hands caught her gently. "Now, I shall see to my business, no? And per'aps if you do not bite me, I shall fetch some food from ze kitchens for you."

Hermione was frozen in place, shocked at being held and carried, the delicate fingers carefully stroking along her back. No one had picked her up yet, not in this form. Only Sirius had seen it, and he'd always been very respectful about not touching her while she was a fox. She hadn't thought that the sensation of being _petted_, like a common animal, would feel so lovely. Belatedly, she realized that the girl was carrying her down the hallway, in the essential direction she'd intended to go, and murmuring little nothings in French to her. _Lovely… she's an animal person. A cute, little, fluffy, animal person. Perhaps if I jump away when she's not noticing, I'll be able to run and hide before she can levitate me back again. Damn non-verbal magic._

"Fleur!" The excited tones of several others greeting the girl made Hermione wince, trying to dampen her sensitive hearing. That was something she'd have to work on, once she was able to change back and forth without the help of Sirius. She knew whatever type of fox she was, in the wild, couldn't possibly always be so sensitive of hearing, or at least be able to block some of the noises out. A babble of French gushed over her, and she noticed the other girls from the blonde's home school all gathered in an empty classroom. They seemed to be teasing her captor joyfully.

"Oh, silence, ze lot of you." Fleur rolled her eyes and gently stroked Hermione's back again, carefully scratching with the tips of her fingers. Oh, that felt absolutely devine… she was never going to live this down if Sirius ever found out. "Eet is cute."

"Fleur, you do not like animals." One of the girls finally spoke in English, rolling her eyes. "Where have you gotten this thing?"

"Zat… _Peeves_, as ze Prefects called `im… was annoying me." Fleur sniffed delicately, proudly, and the other girls all tittered amused giggles, making Hermione's ears twitch. Obviously they thought Fleur had overreacted… which was likely very true. "I found zis leetle one in ze hall where I lost zat ghastly creature zrough a wall. Eet is adorable… and I shall see it to its `uman."

"It is… cute…" the one that had been speaking English with her reached forward, and Hermione laid her ears back again, offering a soft, hissing growl. She was putting up with this blonde girl's petting because she was still held captive until she could escape without another levitation spell being cast at her; she was _not_ going to suffer the indignity of being passed around like a new puppy for coos and giggling. The other girl snatched her hand back, eyes wide. "It is _feral_, Fleur. Let it go."

"I do not zink zat eet likes you, is all, Madaline." Fleur's smirk grew, and Hermione huffed out a sigh. The door was closed behind them, she had to wait until someone was coming or going, or the blonde was in the hall and distracted, before she could try to jump away. Maybe she _should_ bite this girl, Fleur apparently… the blonde would probably drop her if she did… but then, having seen how she reacted to Peeves, the French girl might attempt to hex her as revenge. She resigned herself to putting up with that too-lovely petting sensation as Fleur dissolved into French, lilting words with the other girls, huffing or giggling, or growling, to each other in a language that Hermione couldn't begin to understand. Absently, she wondered if they were comparing notes on the school, intending to send back to their own as Ginny suspected, or complaining about having to be there at all.

_Likely much simpler than that… just talking about their days, and how it is likely different than the school they are used to._ Hermione glanced curiously around at the girls, the dark tip of her tail flicking every now and then, wishing she hadn't been caught. She needed to get to Sirius, to not only be changed back, but to assure that the involuntary transfiguration wasn't a sign of some problem. _If he finds out about this petting, I will never hear the end of it… no matter how lovely it feels. Let me go girl… let me go, I'm not a pet._ At least it wasn't Malfoy, or another of the nasty Slytherins. She'd heard they'd attempted to hex Mrs. Norris more than once.

"Shush. Eet is asleep." The words barely woke her, said in a harsh whisper, but she didn't open her eyes, ears twitching lightly. There was no more gossip hovering over her, and the gentle fingers had stopped stroking her back, instead cradling her carefully to the girl's body. "Eet was in ze hall near ze stairs zat move to ze tower I'm to sleep in. Do you zink zat eet belongs to someone zere, and ze stair 'ad simply moved and eet could not ascend?"

"Perhaps." There was a light pause. "If not, they will likely know to whom it belongs. Fleur, if it is a familiar, like you think, it can likely find its way back to its master alone."

"Zis I know, Madaline, but zat poltergeist was knocking many zings over in his racket… eet could `ave been `urt while `e was around." There was a sad, soft sigh in her captor's voice, and Hermione tried not to open her eyes and look up at the blonde girl. Admittedly, though this French girl was infuriating in not letting her run off when she pleased, it was kind to not want Peeves to accidentally crush her with his mess. "If eet is not belonging to someone in ze Gryffon tower, I shall let it go. Do not fret."

The door was opening, she could hear it, and she waited until she was assured that it could not be closed on her tail before opening her eyes and springing out of the girl's arms, darting as quickly down the hall as she could in her escape. The startled cry of both girls behind her was a bit too loud, but luckily she did not find herself unexpectedly airborne again, and turned eagerly down the hallway that lead to the private quarters of the school professors. It would not be hard at all to find Sirius, though she'd need to be cautious of McGonagall possibly catching her, and getting _into_ his set of rooms would be a challenge. At least she wasn't held captive by a well-meaning, if hot tempered, French girl anymore.

**_TBC_**


	5. Chapter 4

**_Disclaimer in preface._**

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><p>Hermione quickly jumped onto the platform of the statue that dominated the turn in the hall, squeezing herself into a crevice and curling as tightly as she could, hoping beyond hope that she wasn't seen. Birdcalls had woken her with a softly growling stomach, barely before she noticed the entrance to what was assuredly <em>not<em> Sirius Black's quarters starting to open. The soft clicking of heels and swish of robes made her freeze, holding her breath even, as she recognized the distinctive stride of McGonagall. Her heart hammered in her tiny chest, and she waited until all traces of the woman's passage were gone before carefully, cautiously, peeking her head out to look around. It seemed that the coast was clear, and Hermione squirmed free, leaping eagerly toward her uncle's entrance. The tapestry was still, as were the stones behind it that would fold in on themselves to create his doorway, and she was stuck waiting there again for when he deemed it time to fetch breakfast.

She'd begun to doze again when her ears twitched, catching the familiar sound of shifting stone, but she was only barely uncurling to face him when Sirius noticed her. "What the bloody hell?" His exclamation made her wince, and she darted into the room before someone could come to investigate. Sirius glanced warily around before retreating back into the room with her, the stones expanding and rotating until they'd formed a solid wall again. "Hermione? What are you doing! I've told you to never change unless I could get to you to transfigure you back… and McGonagall lives in this hall!" Hermione huffed and glared as she hopped into the cushioned chair at his desk, chittering angrily. She wasn't _that_ stupid, really. "Right, right." Sirius flicked his wand at her, spelling her back to her human form, and she collapsed back into the comfortable chair in relief. "What happened?"

"Peeves, damn that arse." Hermione growled, sneering, and then sighed again as she shook her head. "He was having a go at irritating the foreigners, apparently… loud one. It startled me so badly when he came bashing through the hall that I changed without meaning to." Her expression shifted to a scowl and she eyed his somewhat amused expression. "Is that supposed to happen?"

"Not quite…" His hesitance made her roll her eyes and she waited. "Only once to me, not that I ever told James… and not that _you _ever will either." He was chuckling lightly, and she breathed a sigh of relief. "It was anger for me, not fright. Prongs, Moony, and I had all just gotten into a tiff over a prank I'd played on Snivelus. They stormed out, and I was so bloody angry at everything that the next thing I know, I'm a dog." She huffed and growled again, her smile at his admittance fading. If being _startled_ was enough to make her change without warning, she hadn't any hope of keeping this a secret. "I believe it has something to do with how magic works in our bodies. When we were younger, our innate magic activated, lashed out I suppose, during times of strong emotion or sudden change. Now we have that mostly controlled, focused through our wands and spells, but we teach our bodies and magic that Animagus transfiguration needs neither. I suppose that it's a good thing, in a way, that your body is so closely in-tune with the fox that it shifted like that." Hermione leveled a skeptical glare at her uncle at his ending comment.

"Is it a good thing that I got swept up by one of the visiting students and carried off to her gossip session with her friends?" Her growl made him chuckle lightly. "It's not as if I am capable of performing magic while transformed, if that's even possible. Once I've mastered shifting back and forth, I'll have to practice dodging spells while a fox."

"Something rather necessary." Sirius chuckled again, twirling his wand between his fingers idly. "So what exactly do foreign girls gossip about while holding fluffy animagi hostage?"

"I would assume the same things that British girls do, except that their words are spoken in French." Hermione sighed, running a hand through her frizzy hair. She was still in the same clothing that she had worn the day before, when she had been forced into her change, and the serum she usually applied to her hair had since worn off. It wasn't quite at frazzled as she had dealt with in her previous years, but she could still feel the difference. Especially with taking the time to chat with her uncle about this, she knew she was not going to have time to eat or bathe before her first class. She would barely have time to change. "Only one of them speaks with a French accent… I'd never noticed before, as we've only that girl in our House, and I haven't classes with the others…"

"Hmmn." Sirius frowned slightly, rubbing the light dusting of scruff that shadowed his cheeks, and she felt one of her ears twitch at that. "It's likely that their School Head spelled English into their minds for them, once they were chosen to participate in the exchange. I wouldn't be surprised if the same had been done for most of the students. If you listen to those girls carefully, they likely all have the same inflection and dialect. The ones with accents learned our language without magic."

Hermione's eyes widened, and she shifted almost excitedly in the chair. "The same inflection and dialect?" She smiled at the soft smirk on her uncle's face; he always seemed so pleased with her interest in whatever he had to teach her.

"The only spell that I am aware of that allows for magically learning a language, without the constant use of a charmed or otherwise enchanted object, has a few… down sides, I suppose you could call them. Another witch or wizard has to perform the spell for you, and you must 'acquire' the language from someone fluent in it. However, as you're essentially copying the language from them, you'd end up speaking it as they would… the same inflection, the same dialect, the same accent. If they acquired the language from someone in Wales, for example, they'd all have a Welsh accent. Those speech patterns can go away over time, to an extent, just as someone with a regional dialect can learn to speak differently, but the base of the language will always be the same." He gestured idly as he spoke, looking disinterested and lazy, as she already knew he tended to do when teaching, but she could see the smug pride in his eyes.

"That's how Dumbledore learned the language of the merfolk, isn't it?" Hermione's grin was displayed full force, and Serious laughed at her sudden assumption. "I'd really rather learn a language myself, instead of using magic… it seems so much more interesting that way… but I suppose I can see the appeal in a certain light. You can learn the language quickly, if you have someone fluent on hand, and you wouldn't have a British accent when speaking it…"

"Learning languages after the developmental years can be rather lengthy and tedious." Sirius nodded, and then stretched and smirked more. "I'll tell you more about that later. You've Charms with Flitwick first, haven't you? I believe you're already well enough ahead in that to miss a day. I'll give him a note excusing you, and send an elf with some food to your room. Go freshen up… that was the longest you've ever had to remain in your animal form."

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><p>It was a rare occasion indeed that Hermione missed any of her classes, and rarer still that she skipped for an entire day. Nevertheless, she'd thanked the house-elf that had appeared with her late breakfast, packed several books into her satchel, and snuck a note into her uncle's office that he might need to find her in the room of requirement later. She didn't plan to spend her <em>entire<em> day practicing, really, but having been forced into a change didn't sit well with her. She'd really rather have the day to assure it wouldn't happen again, and had no desire to run into that French girl again… not yet.

Getting to the appropriate hallway, without any instructors, Filch, or prefects catching her made use of a few secret passages necessary. She was almost tempted to take the passage out to the shrieking shack, or somewhere less likely to be obvious as she entered and exited, but should she get stuck in her fox form, she'd need to be able to find her uncle again. Most of her morning was spent studying ahead in her texts, and practicing a few things here and there to assure she had them down. She waited until she'd eaten lunch before settling into her animagus transformation practices. At least shifting into the form of her fox was no longer much of an effort…

An hour of frustration, exhaustion, and what she suspected was a strained muscle later, Hermione found herself still sporting fur and a tail. The growling yips and hisses echoed around the Room of Requirement, currently set to a spell practice room, complete with a dueling strip. With only a little bit of struggle she managed to root one of her books out of her bag, and after some effort managed to nudge the cover open with her nose. Turning the pages was tedious, and resulted in more than a few winces. She was sure that she'd wrinkled most of the ones she'd moved, and there might have been a scratch from her claws. Nevertheless, she settled into reading again, this time on complex _theory_ behind transfiguration practices. Perhaps if she could remind this form what it felt like to shift and mould magic within itself, she would manage to change back without her uncle's help.

"Hermione?" The words were cautious, and she lifted her head groggily. She might have, perhaps, fallen asleep. "Ah, there you are. Decided against practicing did you?"

Hermione paused mid-stretch, fists clenched still, and looked at Sirius in surprise. Slowly, her eyes traveled down, toward her body, and she scrambled to her feet quickly. "How… I… When!" He stood there, amused, as she patted herself down desperately, and then dove for the book she'd been curled around. "This doesn't make sense! Not at all! When, _how_, did I do it?"

"Mione…" His voice held laughter, and she decided to ignore him for a moment, desperately flipping through the pages of the book. "What are you…"

"I _did_ practice, Uncle Sirius. I don't even remember…" She huffed and continued searching through the book for some kind of explanation. "The last thing I remember before I apparently dozed off was that apparently this author was not an animagus and had _no_ real talent for wandless magic… and _still_ being a fox."

"Then why are you still looking through the book for something?" Sirius asked, still more amused than alarmed. She huffed again, but continued flipping pages for posterity's sake. "Come now… we'll go a few rounds before supper." He gestured idly with his wand, and she pouted stubbornly, moving away from the book slowly. She had _no_ idea how she had, apparently, managed to change back. "Shift and I'll change you back, once, and then you'll do it again, only this time you shall try to do it yourself." Hermione huffed, glared around the room for good measure, and forced the innate magic inside of her into the exact pattern and flow she remembered well at this point. As she settled to a sitting position, ears still laid back stubbornly, she wondered if Sirius changing her really was a help after all. Wasn't it _his_ magic that started the change, not her own… she'd only sense half of it if so. "Now concentrate on how this feels. Try to stop the effects."

Her ears twitched at that command. He'd never told her to resist before… she'd never tried. As his wand swished through the air, she bared her teeth in a growl, struggling against the magic that she felt gripping her. That strange itching, stretching feeling from her first several transformations overtook her. After several long moments, she managed to throw off his spell, barely. Sirius was smiling happily when she did so.

"Good! Good, you're gaining better control of your magic in this form." He nodded. "Once more..." He nodded again, lifted his wand, and that was the only warning she received before his spell was cast again. The same sensations of stretching, itching, and tedious struggle came to her, and she found herself wriggling and writhing in place, before finally managing to throw his spell off. "No faster, but you managed. Alright, we'll actually shift you back this time, and concentrate on the difference… what your magic feels like this time, how it is working."

**_TBC_**


	6. Chapter 5

**_Disclaimer in preface._**

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><p>Hermione shifted quietly in place. Getting in and out of the Griffindor common rooms was rather difficult in this form, but she'd at least managed to master the art of hiding in the shadows, and streaking through the opening when someone else had come along. Usually she tried to choose the more distracted students, when they were unlikely to notice her. She still couldn't <em>always<em> shift back into her human form on the first try, but it was possible with prolongued effort and patience now. Sirius continued his private work with her, when neither of them had too much work or homework, and she'd taken to meeting him already in fox-form. At least then all that was needed was for her to attempt to throw off his spells, and then eventually attempt to change back. Resisting had definitely helped with her own control and understanding, feeling from that what the magic was _trying_ to do, and then attempting to replicate it later on.

Currently, however, she was indulging in light spying. Fleur, the French girl, was seated in a corner of the common room, reading. Most likely it was a portion of her homework, as the slightly annoyed look on her face was not telling of enjoyment of her reading. The common room was quieter than usual, which she was quite grateful for with the sensitivity to sound that her fox form came with, but that was mostly due to the girls occasionally glancing over at Fleur enviously, or the boys failing at their attempts at discreet staring. It seemed that Ronald wasn't the only boy in her House infatuated with the transfer student.

Harry and Ron were both away, luckily, she didn't think she could go without nipping at them if they treated the poor girl the same way. Quidditch practice was probably the reason for the smaller crowd, considering that people still hadn't learned that it was rude to stare. Huffing, and noticing a small bundle of first years heading slowly toward the room entrance, she crept forward. It took surprisingly little effort to catch the blonde's attention, a simple brush of her tail against her leg beneath the robe and Fleur's gaze snapped down to the shadow of her quickly retreating form. Her sensitive ears easily picked up the quick shutting of a book, and the shifting that accompanied standing quickly. She streaked along the edges of the room, keeping to the shadows and out of the others' sight, aiming for the common room door, where the bundle of first years were exiting.

Hermione barely made it out of the portait hole behind the giggling children, and glanced back in time to note Fleur striding quickly in that direction. Huffing out a breath and berating herself for this, Hermione slipped quickly around the first years, hearing one jump in shock, and the rest of them move quickly out of the way as the portrait began to swing open again. Hermione leapt over the trick step, not really wanting to sink to her death as she'd fit through entirely in this form, and landed easily on the next floor's landing. Glancing back, she noted Fleur following after her still, book tucked under one arm, the tiniest of smils hinting at her lips. Hermione flicked her tail, quickly moving down one hallway, careful to pace herself so that the blonde would keep up, and cautious of anyone that might accidentally spot her. Most of the students that still lingered, not many with the weather unseasonably nice, were too occupied with conversations on their own level of height, instead of whatever happened to be running about on the ground. It was no wonder Mrs. Norris disliked so many students, most of them had probably almost stepped on her when they weren't watching and hadn't a reason to fear getting caught at something.

By the time she'd led an increasingly frustrated blonde girl down a deserted hallway, and up a few flights of stairs, she could hear the grumbles in French. What few students they had passed were all gone now, and Hermione slipped around another corner, through a small, dark corridor. At the other end, a sharp corner proving to lead into an area filled with light, she quickly darted into cover. Fleur emerged cursing under her breath, the foreign words lilting even in her frustration, and stopped short. A large portion of the student populous didn't know about this landing. Most of those who did seemed to be the adventurous types, or Hufflepuffs that liked solitude. Likely, Fleur had never even heard of it. The landing was a little worn from weather and ill-repair, but certainly sturdy enough. A large, flowing willow tree emerged from the cracked stone facing on one side, mortar and stones broken outward around it to accomodate it's size. With a little research, and friendly gossip with the school's ghosts, Hermione had found out that a few spells gone awry from a Hufflepuff of years past had sent the roots of a Lallac Willow sprout into the stone walls of his room. The seedling's sprouts hadn't survived in the darkness of his room, but the magically strengthened roots he'd blasted into the walls had explored and found an outlet here. This appeared to be the end result... astounding considering that the flowering willow rarely crew in such windy areas as a landing of Hogwarts could often be.

"Ah... zis... zis is..." Fleur's soft exhalation made Hermione's ears twitch, and she cautiously peeked up to see the blonde staring in wonder at the tree. There were a few benches still in tact, and good for seating, but when Hermione chose to visit, which was admittedly less often than when she was in her first two years, she had always liked nestling between the tree's bulging roots. Fleur seemed to be of a similar mind, walking cautiously toward the tree and settling on the ground between two large, exposed areas of root. The soft, surprised smile was still on her lips as she slid the book into her lap, beginning to read once more. Hermione smirked internally, carefully sneaking away again. She was sure that Fleur could find her way back to the common room without her... or if not she could always 'happen' upon the landing later in her human form, and provide a guide back.

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><p>Harry was watching her with worry, and she shifted nervously. She'd just mastered shifting forms completely the previous day, and Sirius had suggested that she take a break from constant practice. Her free time had been split between studying, and practicing with him, over the course of school so far, and she hadn't had much time with her friends because of that. It was almost... freeing... to have the ability simply be available to her now. She didn't have to use it, but she could at any time, and if she didn't need to carry anything, she could escape to study, or relax, or do anything really, whenever she wished. It was already a week to Halloween, and she suspected that the festivities would prove tedious, and that freedom would be welcomed.<p>

"You mean, no one's asked you to the Halloween dance?" And Hermione shifted again, trying not to look at her best friend. He'd already asked three times, apparently shocked. Sure she'd gotten a few offers the previous year, mostly from some bolder Ravenclaw boys that had taken notice of her intelligence, but as she'd instead gone in a group with Harry, Ron, and Ginny, she suspected that it had gotten out that she wasn't interested. Then again, she hadn't really been anywhere that someone might get the chance to ask her this year.

"For the last time, Harry, no." Hermione huffed, and her nose twitched. Idly she scratched at it, ignoring the speculative look that Ronald was giving her. "And I'm glad of it... usually you would be too."

"No! I am! I mean I'm not! I mean... of course you deserve to be asked... I mean..." He turned red, attempting to cover up what he believed to be some sort of blunder. They'd been hanging around Ginny more, they had to have been, Harry used to be content at leaving it at his over-protective comments before. "Ugh... no one?"

"No one, Harry." She huffed yet again and looked up at him sharply, seeing him turn a deeper red. "Aren't we all going in a group again anyway? Or have you finally found a date for yourself?"

"Well... erm... sort of?" He was still blushing, and she laughed lightly. Of course... no wonder he suddenly wanted boys to be interested in her. "Lavender and Parvati asked to go with Ron and me... We... um... I don't want to leave you out though, so I told them they could come with all of us."

"Harry, you're fifteen." Hermione admonished, and he looked confused. "You're old enough to have a date for a dance. I'm sure that your parents would be very proud of you for having one." Hermione smirked at him. "Go with them, and Merlin drag Ron with you if you have to. I'm sure that Ginny can find someone too."

"But..." Harry begain.

"I refuse to go in a group with all of you now. You've no other choice." Hermione was still smirking, and Harry looked almost as if he'd been struck. "If I end up going with Nevil, or whoever else is available, I'll save you a dance." Harry continued pouting. "Now tell me how practice has been going. I haven't made it out to any of them... not that I can see much with you darting around after a snitch anyhow..."

He was pouting even from talking about Quidditch, a real feat, but eventually his excitement over the latest maneuvers the team was trying helped to cheer him. Ron was quick to interject his own ideas, and that he felt that he should be more involved as the team's Keeper. Hermione didn't much care for their tactics and plays, as she only understood half of it at most, but the subject was a welcome distraction from them worrying over her not having a date - dash that foolish notion - or having been so difficult to find of late.

By the time talk dissolved into plays and strategies used by professional teams, and some things that Harry had learned from his father, Ginny had joined them, and was looking in annoyance at the boys. She was one of Gryffindor's best Chasers, and Hermione privately suspected the girl actually had professional potential in it, but neither of the boys would really share in the discussion with her, arguing amongst themselves instead. "Hermione..." The hushed word was said as Harry and Ron became more heated in their debate on the worth of a Keeper moving from the coals for a trick play, and she figured that Ginny was attempting to talk while neither boy would notice. "Where have you been? We've barely seen you since school-start, and you're so twitchy." Hermione's nose twitched again, and she quickly shot a hand up to cover it, blushing lightly. Ginny glancd at her purposefully.

"I don't know what you're talking about Gin." Even she wouldn't believe that.

"You've been seeing someone, haven't you? Is it that Durmstrang boy that stares at you? You've really a date to the Halloween dance with him, haven't you?" Ginny looked both excited and put off by the idea of Hermione supposedly having a secret beau. "Are you afraid to introduce him because of Harry?"

"I'm not dating anyone, Gin. And what Durmstrang boy?" Her nose twitched again and wrinkled, this time without her attempting to cover it up, and she scowled. Those boys all looked as if they'd been given a growth potion, there was no way she would have missed one of them lurking about. Ginny just stared at her. "Ginny, what Durmstrang boy?"

"Krum? The one that already plays in the Slavic league?" Ginny was still staring at her as if she were crazy. "Viktor Krum." Hermione stared back, more than a little confused, and heard Harry and Ron taper off as they caught onto the girls' conversation. "He plays in the Slavic quidditch league, and was going to be tapped for Bulgaria's national team before he decided to take a year off to finish school when he heard about the transfer program."

"Bloody hell, he's _that_ Viktor Krum?" Ron gasped out.

"Why're you talking about Krum?" Harry scowled. "My Da met him once... said he was awefully quiet."

"He stares at 'Mione across the meal hall, and trails around the library after her whenever she's in there studying." Ginny snorted. "Hermione hasn't even noticed. _All_ of the Slytherin girls hate you now, and a good portion of the other houses of girls that have figured out who he is. When he asked that prat Draco Malfoy if you come to many matches, and Draco mouthed off about you, he refused to even join the Slytherin House team."

"Ginny, now you're just being ridiculous." Hermione rolled her eyes, settling more comfortably back into her chair. Ginny nudged her in return, insisting that it was true.

"What did Malfoy say about Hermione?" Harry snapped, leaning forward. "I don't care if Sirius said to leave him be, if he's bad-mouthing Hermione..."

"He called her a bastard half-blood." Ginny sighed, rolling her eyes, and looked carefully at Hermione. "At least he didn't use that M word, like he tried to in second year when he got here."

"I am a bastard, and a halfblood." Hermione told Harry pointedly. "Technically, _you're_ a halfblood too, so I don't see why you're so upset." Harry gaped, still incensed, and she shrugged. "Don't you lot even know what year this is for him? I thought Weasleys always knew the gossip." She sighed and shook her head, turning back to Ginny. "Whatever this Krum character thinks, I haven't even noticed him. So, no, I'm not dating him."

"What year is it?" Ginny asked, pouting at the lack of scandal. Harry still looked put out.

"The twins' first year. Didn't you see them at the Sorting? Karrel and Brinnlie Marius, sorted to Ravenclaw." Hermione sighed again, shifting uncomfortably. Sirius's cousin Vendar had been a Ravenclaw too, and she suspected that his blood-children gaining that house, when his step-child had been sorted to Slytherin of all houses, had likely felt like a lash across Draco's back. She didn't hate the boy, no matter how he seemed to take his frustrations out on she and Harry, and having the twins here probably wasn't making things pleasant for him. Likely everyone in Slytherin blamed him as much for Krum not joining the Quidditch team as Ginny seemed to.

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><p>"You're Krum, right? Viktor Krum?" Hermione looked curiously at the tall boy... if she could even call him a boy. He looked as adult as she'd seen any seventh-years, with a light dusting of scruff across his chin. He probably couldn't grow a full beard quite yet, but he still didn't look like he belonged in schooling. Light brown eyes stared solemnly at her, and he seemed a little flushed from havng been caught. Just as Ginny had claimed, she'd caught him lurking after her through the library, and with a quick pass around one of the stacks had come up behind him. "From Durmstrang?"<p>

"Yes." His accent was thick, but barely not pronounced enough to garble his words. He spoke slowly, though, as if afraid to choose the wrong one. Immediately her estimation of him rose, after the conversation she'd had with Sirius about language transfer spells. "And you are Her-mi-o-ne." He spoke her name as if sounding it out, and she blushed slightly to realize that he had such difficulty with it.

"Is there a reason you were following me?" Her eyebrows rose, trying to banish her slight blush, and hoping that it really was because he liked her as Ginny had suspected. If he was curious about strange quirks, possibly having seen her shift from fox to human, then she was likely to end up in a lot of trouble. He flushed more, and she shifted nervously, trying not to let animal behaviors betray her. "My freind says that you stare at me during meals."

"Yes..." it was drawn out again, and though he was blushing a bit, which looked quite odd on his adult features, he didn't seem ashamed of it. "You are very pretty, Her-mi-o-ne, and you are very smart. I am sorry if I offend." His voice was a deep, almost soothing rumble, that reminded her of Sirius's growl when he was a dog. She shook her head, blushing deeper and smiling in embarrassment. At least Harry wasn't around to hear this.

"Why haven't you tried to talk to me then?" Hermione shifted again, still blushing, and glanced discreetly around to see if anyone, especially her friends, were nearby to hear this.

"Because when I look at you... you look at someone else." He smiled softly, his gaze still solemn, and she blushed brightly. "She is very pretty, too. Sometimes she looks when you are not watching. No one else sees... but no one else watches as I do."

"Th- thank-you Viktor." she swallowed hard, and wondered who exactly he had caught her staring at. Was it her talking to Ginny? Ron had joked they seemed too close, sometimes. Or when she was watching Fleur to assure the girl hadn't caught on to who the fox was? "I... That's very sweet." She paused again and sighed, scratching at her nose as it twitched nervously. "Ginny said you wouldn't join the Slytherin House quidditch team after speaking with Draco Malfoy?" She looked up at him again, uncomfortable bringing it up. A deep scoff sounded from the tall boy, and her eyebrows rose.

"He is a very rude boy." Viktor grumbled, his accent becoming thicker. "He calls people rude things."

"Viktor... I _am_ a bastard, and a halfblood." She told him with another sigh, setting her hand gently on his arm. He immediately flushed again. "Draco is having a rough year, after several years of whispers behind his back and feeling as if he's a disappointment to the people important to him. He doesn't show it, but really he just wants someone to be proud of him. He might be rude... and he might go about things the wrong way sometimes... but he could probably use a friend as much as someone who happens to be very far from home." Viktor's blush deepened. "He's their team's Seeker, he was probably trying to give up something he cares deeply about, so that their team could have the best players available. It would probably be very nice, for both of you, to give him a chance at friendship." The flush started to fade, and Hermione was a little glad of that. Blushing looked so strange on him. "He's very smart too, first in his year. He'd probably give me a run if he was my age."

"What is this meaning? Why would being of the same age make you run?" Viktor's eyebrows knitted together, and she laughed lightly, shaking her head. "It is English expression, is it not?"

"Viktor, if you would ever like to learn English expressions properly, I'll see if I can get my uncle to complete our Language for you." She winked, and his eyes went wide with shock as she turned and started to move away. Idly she wondered if it was because she had winked at him, or if it was because she knew about that kind of spell.

**_TBC_**

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><p><strong><em>For those of you who remember, I was determined to turn this from what should have been a crack fic into something readable... and I have been asked how it would have or could have been:<em>**

**_1- Hermione is Bellatrix Black's bastard daughter with a Muggle.*_**

**_2- Sirius Black takes Hermione under his wing as if his daughter, and teaches her how to be an Animagus._**

**_3- Viktor Krum ends up dating Ginny Weasley._**


	7. Chapter 6

**_Disclaimer in preface._**

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><p>Hermione smiled softly to herself from where she was seated, sipping at a cup of mulled apple cider, enjoying a brief respite from the excitement of her peers. Each of her friends, even Ginny, had already insisted on dances with her, as was usual to their group attendance to these schol dances and parties, but luckily the boys at least were off attending to their dates. Even Neville, Ginny's date, had asked for a dance, to which she had quickly declined. He was a sweet, if sometimes shy, boy, and she attributed much of his lack in confidence to attempting to live up to the imposing and impressive figures of his parents. He'd been shocked when Ginny agreed to go to the dance with him, and was currently in search of drinks and a small snack for her.<p>

"You really should be easier on him, Gin." Hermione smirked at her friend over her cider, having spotted Neville fussing over what foods to bring back from the spread that had been laid at the side of the hall. "Any more nervous and he might faint."

"He's nervous because I told him if he did well tonight, I'd help him get a date with the girl he's got a crush on." Ginny smirked back at her, and Hermione's eyebrows rose at the confession. "It's so that I can see what I'm working with... or that's what I told him. Really it's just so that I can have a laugh before pushing him at her, she's been staring at him all night." Hermione laughed a little, and glanced around in an effort to spot whoever was watching Neville as well.

"Who?"

"Alexa, that sixth year Hufflepuff." Ginny inclined her head in the direction of the appropriate table. Hermione laughed lightly at the sight of the oddly-short sixth-year pouting as she stared at the bumbling Neville. "Her parents work in foreign relations for the Ministry, and they've known each other for years because of his parents. He has no idea how to talk to her, though, and always ends up babbling about Herbology when he even _sees_ her."

"That's just a bit sad..." Hermione was still smiling as she looked away from the girl and reached again for her cider. Vaguely, at the edge of her vision, she spotted a tall, dark figure approaching. Ginny's sudden expression of excitement and surprise was a good indication that it wasn't Sirius coming to check on her. Her smile faded to a subdued grin, and Hermione settled the cup a bit more securely in place before turning to regard the nervous form of Viktor Krum. "Hello Viktor."

"Hello Her-mi-o-ne." He still spoke slowly in that low rumble of his, and Hermione wished it was at least a bit easier for him to pronounce her name at least. "You are having a good night?"

"Yes I am, Viktor, thank-you. How is your night? Who did you bring?" Her smile spread slightly, in a friendly manner, and she promptly ignored Ginny's attempts at kicking her and getting her attention under the table.

"Draco is saying that we are come '_stag,_' though I am thinking a stag is a deer." Viktor blushed slightly, the coloring of his cheeks still looking odd on him, and Hermione laughed lightly. "He is rude and arrogant... but yes, I do enjoy our talk of Quidditch." Hermione smiled even more broadly, and his blush deepened. "He is saying, also, that if I _must_ like you, that I should have dance with you." Viktor looked nervously at where Ginny sat so nearby, watching the interaction.

"Actually, I was thinking of slipping out early. Would you mind Ginny here as a stand-in for that dance?" Hermione stood and gesured casually at her friend. The ginger-haired girl gave her an abrupt look of shock, and Hermione offered her most impish smile. "I'd appreciate it."

Viktor looked a little startled at her words, but turned a somewhat sheepish smile on her redheaded friend. Hermione watched as he bowed regally, offering a hand to Ginny, and gently leading her away when it was accepted. The younger girl stared over her shoulder at Hermione with a look mingling shock and awkwardness, and Hermione's grin returned. Viktor was a very nice young man, if perhaps as shy and awkward as Neville sometimes, and Ginny having to deal with that at the same time as her obvious admiration of him would be a bit of payback for what she'd done to poor Neville. Silently, while her friends were all taken with their dance partners and dates, she managed to sneak out of the Great Hall, breathing a slight sigh of relief at the immediate lessening of sound and energy around her.

Mrs. Norris lay watchfully at the corner of a hallway nearby, glowing eyes watching for any signs of student mischief, and Hermione likely only noticed her because she'd developed a keen awareness for fuzzy tails that might be stepped on. "Evening, Mrs. Norris." The cat only blinked at her, not bothering to stand and retrieve her master and catch a student away from the dance and traveling where she shouldn't. "Be sure you aren't stepped on by fools wandering off to snog."

Once again the feline only blinked, and Hermione slid into an alcove, quickly shifting down into her fox form so that she would not be easily found by anyone come to search. She almost went to the astronomy tower, eager for a bit of quiet, relaxing time, but at the last moment darted toward the willow's balcony. A nap nestled within the roots of the tree, it's soft scent helping to relax her, would be just lovely. So many students were staying at Hogwarts over the winter break, excitable due to the exchange students, and her break from their bustle and gossip was going to be less relaxing than usual. She had a sinking feeling that even the library would cease to be a haven from their play and banter. Hermione dozed off, listening to the soft creaking of swaying branches, thinking about possible places to hide out and study.

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><p>"... Ah. Eet is you." The words were spoken softly, almost cooed at her, and Hermione blinked blearily as she woke. The lovely feeling of delicate fingers scratching behind her ears made her eyes flutter shut again, and she took a moment to realize that, not only was she currently a fox, but she was allowing someone to pet her like a common animal. Jerking back, startled, she gazed with large eyes up at the blonde, French girl. "Is moi. We are boz come 'ere to escape ze excitement of ze dance, no? 'ere, you will not run away zis time, and I shall bring you to ze tower wiz me." Hermione simply blinked at the blonde girl again. She didn't really know how to react to that suggestion, and felt a strange sympathy for the cat she'd encountered on her way out of the dance. No wonder Mrs. Norris had simply blinked and stared at her; how did one respond to a babbling human?<p>

Despite her suggestion of bringing the fox back to the Gryffindor tower with her, Fleur didn't attempt to pick Hermione up again, nor did she turn to leave. Instead, she sat, gently smoothing out her elegant dress-robes, and leaned calmly back against the tree and roots. Her ankles were tucked under her, and a book magicked out of thin air for her to read lay across her lap. Hermione remained laying where she'd been found, simply watching the blonde girl with curiosity, as she settled in for a bit of reading. The blonde certainly didn't look as volatile as she had occasionally come across as, Peeves rarely even entered this area of the school with so few students to harass, and Sirius was unlikely to attempt to find her, especially here. With cautious steps, Hermione rose and approached, noticing too easily the way that the blonde girl glanced at her, but pretended to continue reading as if she hadn't seen Hermione move. Still cautious, more due to the fact that she was embarrassed about doing it than that she thought she would be hurt, Hermione placed herself directly next to the girl's hip, looked up once more, and then curled into a comfortable position again and closed her eyes. The French girl was warm, and it was quite comfortable laying against her, especially when one hand dropped lightly to cup against her furry back, and Hermione quickly found herself dozing off again. This was entirely embarrassing, but entirely too comfortable to balk at.

When she woke again, it was to whispered words and soft giggles, the collection of French exchange students all settled within the secluded spot, quietly gossiping with Fleur. They remained oddly quiet, why she didn't know, but almost immediately her large ears lay back. What, exactly, were they doing here at any rate? She'd brought the blonde here to escape the whispers and staring of their foolish housemates, as a kindness. It was not meant to be some exchange student getaway, or overpopulated with giggling students. What if she wanted to come back here to study quietly at some point? Was she just to accept their tresspassing and noise? She should have expected the possibility of Fleur sharing it with her friends, considering that few of the exchange students seemed to have mingled much with the native students, and the blonde likely wished to be with those familiar... but somehow the possibility had slipped her mind.

"You have woken eet." Fleur's pouting voice brought her attention directly upward, and blue eyes met her gaze almost apologetically. "Shh... sleep leetle zing. Zey will hush now."

"You are far too attached to the little furball, Fleur." The somewhat nasal voice of one of the girls gritted against Hermione's nerves, a bit louder now that they knew she was awake. Whatever else she said was in French, and beyond Hermione's understanding, but Fleur offered a haughty look in return to the girl.

"Eet iz not wild." Fleur's words made Hermione snort lightly, and she narrowed her eyes at the other girl. "Eet showed me zis place, and is at ze least as inteligent as a familiar." Fleur sounded proud, and somewhat offended, and Hermione offered a soft growl at the girl that had called her wild. The conversation continued on in French, much to her chagrin, but didnt' seem to be going anywhere particularly important. Before much longer had passed, Fleur gently scooped her up into warm, gentle arms, and moved toward the passageway, throwing a somewhat snide-sounding blur of French words behind her at the others. They all giggled annoyingly in return, and Fleur's strides grew longer and irritated. Wonderful... now she had a quick-tempered French girl carrying her off. Why did those girls have to irritate the blonde?

**_TBC_**


	8. Chapter 7

**_Disclaimer in preface._**

**_Those of you who are new to the story, welcome. For those of you already following, you probably noticed that I shifted the story's settings from Hermione to Hermione/Fleur. No complaints please, my giveadamn never existed._**

**_As usual to my sporadic writing, review responses are at the bottom. I'd apologise for the long wait... but... no._**

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><p>Hermione shifted restlessly, eyes focused intently on the door. Fleur had not put her down at the stair to the Gryffindor house. She hadn't put her down in the commons, or even at the hall of the girls' dorms. Instead she'd been carried directly into the foreign girl's room, a spare prefect room from what she could determine, and was settled onto the bed as Fleur waved the door shut with her wand. What, exactly, was she to do now? The benefit of not squirming or biting Fleur was that the blonde did not lose her temper and attempt to hex her like Peeves… the disadvantage was apparently that the girl thought her a tame pet. She'd been so focused on the door, attempting to come up with some sort of escape, that she hadn't noticed Fleur taking down her hair, spelling off her makeup… little though there was of that… and beginning to undress. Hermione let out a small yelp, something akin to a strangled yip in her current form, and quickly hid her head under forepaws and tail.<p>

When laughter rang through the dormitory's previous silence, she dared to peek out. Fleur was still standing about in her undergarments, making Hermione's fur ruffle in an animal-equivalent of a blush, and she hid her eyes again. "Quite ze polite leetle creature, no?" Gentle fingers trailed through the fur of her back, tickling at her ears, and Fleur continued laughing softly as she went about dressing for bed. Herione's ears quirked this way and that, listening carefully for the sounds of clothes being donned, and only when she heard what sounded like Fleur brushing her hair did she attempt to peek again. The blonde witch was sat nearby, a mirror spelled to levitate before her as she slowly ran a brush through her hair, a small, content grin at her lips. Hermione also noticed, atop her travel trunk, that she had arranged a bundle of pillows and blankets- likely a bed for her. Hermione watched the French girl for several moments, as content to watch Fleur brush her hair as the girl was to go through the soothing evening ritual.

Fleur really was quite beautiful, moreso than she'd really bothered to notice most often before. Of course she'd seen how the other students reacted to her, and understood it on an academic level, but looking at the relaxed, pleasant expression, and the girl's hair down and soft about her shoulders… she really did look just lovely. There was an odd cast to her features, though it didn't take away from the beauty, it simply gave a slightly inhuman grace to them. For a brief moment, she wondered if Fleur might be an animagus as well, and simply had not recognized what Hermione's fox form was, but she dismissed that quickly enough. Sirius had said that McGonnagal would know the first time she saw the fox, and the few times she'd seen Sirius as a dog in the time she'd been an animagus he had seemed so much himself, and she'd understood him well enough without being versed in Lelligamency and Occlumency. Fleur hadn't understood anything she'd thought or done before, not on the level that an Animagus should, and seemed convinced that she was something like a familiar.

As she saw Fleur dismiss the mirror, and begin to set her brush aside, Hermione shook he thoughts from her mind. Whatever Fleur was, if she was anything other than a foreign witch, could be thought on later. Bounding from the bed, she darted quickly over to the door, sitting there and looking expectantly at the girl. Fleur watched her with a slight smirk, and Hermione cocked her head to the side crooning a gentle noise at her. It took her placing a delicate paw on the door for the French girl to understand finally. _Let me out. Please. I can't stay here all night._

Fleur looked to almost be pouting, and strolled slowly over to pick her up again. "Eef you are a familiar, your master will be waiting, no?" Hermione wrinkled her nose. She didn't really want to be thought of as having a _master_, and who knew what Fleur would end up doing if she thought that someone was having their familiar trail her around. She shook her little head, tail flicking slightly again. "No? 'owever you do want out." Hermione slowly nodded, unsure of how much intelligence to display, but figuring that she'd already given that away anyhow. "Merde, you are a clever leetle zing." Fleur sighed, stroking down Hermione's head and back once more, almost sadly, and then opened the door for her, letting her down carefully. Hermione looked back at her once, and began to bound away. Fleur's door was still open, the girl watching after her, as Hermione quickly jumped around the corner.

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><p>The number of people that had stayed over the holiday, likely to enjoy the Yule Ball as much as curiosity over the transfer students that had remained, presented more of a difficulty to Hermione than she'd liked. It had become known, somehow, that Viktor Krum preferred to frequent the Library when he wasn't off with Draco somewhere. His admirers had actually been banned from within its confines, Madam Pince not willing to put up with their ruckus within, but that had left gaggles of them just outside of the doors, making it rather difficult to enter and exit. Her favorite study retreat overtaken by Quidditch fans, and the balcony given over to the French girls, Hermione took the holiday as opportunity to explore more in the form of her fox.<p>

Harry and the Weasleys had gone off to their families for the holiday after the Ball had ended, and though she did have dinner with Sirius for Christmas day, her entire holiday break was taken with exploring, and finding new little nooks and passages in which to study and escape the crowds. Her last find had become a fast favorite of hers; it led from the astronomy tower, and likely the Ravenclaw dorms, straight to the library, illuminated by fairy lights on the ceiling that lit only when smiled at. The passage opened in a manner similar to how the wall of the Leaky Cauldron let out into Diagon Alley, and emerged at the back of a history section that covered the most ancient of Goblin wars. She didn't doubt others knowing about it, but at least the majority of Krum's admirers didn't know of it, and she could enter and exit the library in peace. The crowd only got worse on the last day leading to the start of term, as the students had all returned.

"Her-mi-o-ne?" Viktor's broken pronunciation of her name heralded his approach, and she breathed a sigh of relief that the stones of the wall had already braided back together, hiding the passage. Likely as he was to have needed his own secret entrance, away from his fans, it was just as likely that they would have followed him carefully enough to discover it as well. "I did not see you enter."

"I had to sneak past the crowd." She shrugged, brushing away the concern over how she'd gotten in. "How was your holiday?" She tried to smile a bit more brightly, seeing Draco lingering not too far away. "Hullo Draco."

"C- Cousin." The word and acknowledgement looked to physically pain the boy, but it made Viktor smile, and Draco rolled his eyes before turning away.

"I… come to ask you for the favor…" the Bulgarian Seeker's face turned sheepish and embarrassed, his odd blush in place, and Hermione was momentarily confused. Glancing curiously at fidgeting Draco, she furrowed her brow.

"Favor?" Hermione blinked a few times, and then glanced between the two nervous boys again. Draco was even peeking discreetly over his shoulder at them.

"He doesn't like not always understanding me." He turned again to face away, shoulders stiff. "Said you could do something about that…" He tried to make his voice sound bored and annoyed, but she could tell from his posture that he was curious and eager as well.

Hermione ignored the blonde boy, though, and looked with wide eyes at Viktor, who promptly turned and made odd gestures at Draco, catching his attention and shooing him away. The Slytherin huffed, but walked far enough away to allow for them to not be overheard. "I am not liking to not understand English sayings, but I did not wish to be asking of you with nothing given in return… Draco is telling me, last night, that he speaks the French language, and wishes instead that it was my language…" Hermione's eyebrows shot up again at the implication. "I am thinking, if you do this favor, and are teaching me the spell… I can give you both."

Hermione looked around the Bulgarian in surprise, eyeing Draco. How had he learned French? _Is that where his mother is from? Sirius mentioned that she's from another country…_ She didn't honestly know if her uncle would cooperate though, much though she'd already claimed that she could make it happen. She didn't know why she'd suggested it at all, and shifted nervously again. As useful as understanding the other languages would be, particularly French when around Fleur and her friends, perhaps she could just convince Sirius to teach the spell to her.

"We can't do it right now… obviously." She hedged, looking around the library with an arched eyebrow that made Viktor grin foolishly. He really was such a sweet young man. "And it'll take a bit to set up. Give me some time, and I'll let you know." She eyed Draco again, wondering just how willing Uncle Sirius would be… beyond pity for Draco's situation, the man didn't much like or trust Slytherins.

"Oi." Even as she was pushing past him, Draco caught her shoulder, his expression that usual disapproving sneer. A light blush overtook his pale features though, and he looked away uncomfortably. "I know we aren't friends… but Viktor says you shoved 'im at me as a friend. I… don't… just thanks… and for this."

Hermione smiled softly, understanding too well. Though Draco had acquaintances within his house, it had always seemed to her that they didn't seem to be much like friends. Not like it was for her and Harry, or even the Weasleys. She wasn't about to verbalize that for him, though. "You're welcome, Draco."

"You're still a halfblood bastard." He mumbled uncomfortably, yanking his hand away.

"You're a bit of a bastard yourself." She told him, making his features harden, and she smiled at Viktor so that the young man wouldn't step in. "It's one of your best features." She quickly moved off, barely managing to slip between the crowd of admirers waiting for a chance to look at or talk to Krum, and missed the slight smirk that Draco gave as she walked off.

Finding Professor Sirius Black wasn't really as difficult as she expected it to be, but she somehow managed to catch him in his office between pre-term errands. "Is that a Nixie circlet?" She asked in surprise, watching him carefully levitate a glass case into a trunk, it's glowing contents too obvious from where she stood at the door. To a muggle it would seem like nothing more than a braided circlet or crown of flowers, twigs, and weed… a child's idle creation. Anyone with wizarding blood, though, would see the ethereal glow that came from an enchanted Nixie circlet… and she dreaded the possibility of that glass cracking.

"Hermione!" His jovial tone made her cringe. He had that same smile just before he suggested that she learn to be an animagus. She rather _liked_ being one, true, but it was his impish nature that brought it about. "Yes, it is. I'm introducing advanced wards and barriers to the sixth year class this term. A Nixie hex is wonderful motivation to learn it quickly."

"Nixies are OWL material." She corrected. "You taught how to recognize and defend against them to the fifth years in October."

"They're also extremely skilled at breaking wards and barriers. Gringotts occasionally finds Nixies in its tunnels, though never the vaults." Sirius shrugged, setting an array of locks on the trunk. "They're a good test for the strength of the wards and barriers that a student can put up. The wards and barriers they cannot break through are NEWT material. You'll see next year."

"Harry is going to hate that…" Hermione mumbled, wondering how her oldest friend would take to the lesson. He'd hated the nixies the first time around, and she hadn't been much help, as busy as she was with her private training. "Anyway… I came by to ask a favour." She moved a bit further into his office, toying with the edge of her jumper. "Do you remember talking about that language spell? You mentioned that you can perform it." Sirius leaned casually against his desk, smirking. "How many of the rumors about Viktor Krum have you heard?"

"The ones involving his crush on you, or about how one day he was scorning Draco for insulting you and the next best friends with the boy?" The laughter in her uncle's voice was obvious, and she blushed lightly while glaring at him. "So he's offered to let you have his language then?"

"Sort of… Viktor and I are somewhat… like… well friends. I was the one that suggested he get to know Draco better." Hermione sat down with a sigh. "He's a very sweet young man, even if he is a bit shy… and I think he's been a good influence on Draco. The little prat thanked me earlier." Sirius looked shocked, briefly, before laughing. "Viktor learned our language the non-magical way, and still doesn't seem to understand some of the more intricate nuances. I jokingly told him to tell me if he ever wanted the complete language. He never asked about it before, but when Draco told him that he speaks French…"

"They want each other's languages, and Krum offered both to you as trade… to make it fair." He nodded, scratching idly at the scruff growing on his cheek. He was silent for a few moments, making her grow yet more nervous. Idly, her nose twitched just a bit, and she fidgeted again with the edge of her jumper. "Seems like a good enough plan. It might be... beneficial... for them to believe they're simply exchanging languages, but that would really be up to you."

"You'll do it then?" Her eyes grew a bit wide, smile spreading on her lips, and he chuckled. "Just lovely."

"Bulgarian requires a different alphabet than English or French. The spell only works for on the spoken end; likely Viktor and his school-mates had to study the English alphabet as well, if they didn't all learn English the hard way." Sirius warned. "And I suppose we should get this out of the way before term really starts. We can all meet here in my classroom after supper tonight."

**_TBC_**

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><p><strong><em>Review responses have been deleted during updates.<em>**


	9. Chapter 8

_**Disclaimer in preface. Review/reader responses found at the end of chapter.**_

_**Also, the foreign languages inserted into here are a one-chapter-only addition, to highlight what Hermione is going through. I used Google Translate, so I do not know if it's accurate or would have been replaced by something else according to dialect, but I haven't really a Bulgarian or a French person to write things out for me. (It's been edited at least twice to correct for the mistakes made via Google Translate, so you see my point)**_

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><p>"Yes, Professor Black?" Draco's expression was cold and a bit detached, though Viktor looked a bit nervous and curious at having been called in. Hermione simply relaxed on one of the room chairs, trying not to flick her ears at each sound, or move overmuch. It wasn't particularly that she thought either of them would recognize her, but the less pieces of the puzzle they had, the better. Sirius made a soft noise that she, at least, knew meant he was amused at Draco's attempt at disinterest.<p>

"It has come to my attention that you're in need of... a spell." The smug tone from her uncle made her nose twitch, and she dared a slow glance up at the boys. Viktor had straightened considerably, and Draco had paled. He waited for a moment, and if she cared just a bit less about their knowing that she was there, she might have growled at the man for his teasing. "Hermione had me call you in. You're lucky that she's as convincing as she is, otherwise I'd leave Krum's language issues up to the Headmaster." He paused and eyed the blonde boy, "Nevermind your desires, boy." He chuckled at their somewhat relieved, and Draco's pointedly annoyed, expressions. "Stop pouting at me boy, you're as frightening as a garden gnome." Sirius laughed and pushed off, standing and stretching lazily. "You'll need to be relaxed, asleep is best but completely relaxed is fine. I've got a potion at my desk for if you think you'll be too tense. You'll also need to be in contact."

It was a full moment before the boys moved, realizing belatedly that Sirius intended for them to do so without waiting. Her ears tracked them, though she didn't dare to lift her head and watch them. There was shuffling, a grumble or two from Draco, before she heard her uncle pick something up off of his desk. It had to be the potion, he always kept his wand at hand, and she was completely unsurprised when he insisted both of them take at least half of the potion. Viktor wasn't commenting, which she assumed meant that Sirius was actually telling something close to the truth, and taking advantage of the potion to sneak her closer for the tactile component of the spell, or that the Bulgarian hadn't actually seen the spell performed before. Quietly, discreetly, she stood, and leaped to the top of the nearest desk, observing where Sirius had arranged them laying at the front of the room, hands brushing. Draco had a mildly disgusted look on his face, though his body was otherwise slack, and Viktor was simply staring wide-eyed up at the ceiling. Neither were truly asleep, though they did appear do be rather out of it otherwise. Quickly, Hermione bounded across the desks, jumped Draco's legs, and carefully curled over their hands.

"_Lingua donum_." She vaguely recognized her uncle performing a complicated wand motion along with his words, but was instead attempting to keep her body and mind completely relaxed, just in case it truly was necessary for the spell. Any thoughts on relaxing her muscles, however, flew away with the first shot of fire through her brain. Her body tingled, she smelled a tinge of sulfur, and a wave of dizziness hit her. And then it happened again. She was already stumbling away from the boys' hands, her head on fire and all sense of balance gone, as the repetitions of the spell continued, Sirius giving the boys their languages as well. Apparently he'd gifted to her first. As the nauseating scent dissipated, and her vision began to clear, she clenched her claws, trying to keep the floor beneath her from heaving again. It felt quite as if someone had taken a muggle's electric mixer to her brain. "I suspect you'll be quite dizzy and nauseous for a while. I hope you didn't have very large suppers." Sirius sounded amused still, and she growled lightly as she stumbled away. Who knew when the boys would have enough balance and presence of mind to get off of the floor... "The dizziness is a side effect of your mind shuffling the new language into your heads, and associating the words with what they mean and how they are said. It'll be gone in a bit. I would suggest that you remain where you are until both the potion, and the side effects of the spell, have eased."

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><p>Hermione's lingering headache was an irritation that she hadn't anticipated dealing with. Apparently Sirius hadn't been playing at anything when he'd claimed the boys needed to be in a state of relaxation for the transference spell. Every sound and whisper brought about shooting pain behind her eyes as her brain shuffled, then reshuffled, in an attempt at settling the languages where they belonged. Words echoed after everything said, first in French, then Bulgarian, in the strangest sensation she had ever experienced. Her uncle had claimed that it would ease sometime within the next day or three, though she wasn't quite sure if she would be able to stand the pain for more than another day, nor the delayed understanding of anything said that the echoing of languages caused. Draco seemed particularly smug where he sat several tables away, and was obviously not suffering the same ill effects. Lucky prat with his ability to have that relaxation potion Sirius provided.<p>

"Hermione?" _Hermione? Хърмаяни?_ The echo was almost as annoying as it was painful, and she squinted irritably at the redhead that had spoken to her. She felt like growling at him. "Are you okay?" _Ca va? Добре ли си?_ The echo delayed her response for a moment as she muddled through his meaning. It was harder, even to piece together a response that he would understand.

"I..." She squinted again, focusing instead down at the food on her plate, instead of his face. English. She _had_ to speak in English. "Fine."

"You... behind you?" _derrière toi зад теб_ He wrinkled his nose in confused irritation at her behavior, and gestured with a half-eaten biscuit. Swallowing her pained groan at having to muddle through his words, she turned to glower at whoever had decided to approach her. The boy looked like a first year, and seemed genuinely terrified to be speaking with her... which only served to irritate her further. She hadn't ever really done anything to the foolish first years, nor did she have a reputation for being that kind of person. What the bloody hell was he so afraid of?

"I... I..." the stammering was irritating as well, with the echoes of other languages bouncing around her skull, but with a deep, calming breath, the boy stared up at the enchanted ceiling, instead of focusing on her face, and held out a note with a shaking hand. "Professor Black said to speak very slowly." The words came out slowly, carefully enunciated, and she was grateful as the more purposeful speech helped to ease the meaning into her mind. "You are to rest for the day in the dorms, he's sent a note of excuse to your instructors. There should be a sample of something to relax you and help your headache in your room."

"_**Mer**_... Thank-you." Hermione spoke just as slowly, trying not to snap or growl at the young fool, and halting the thanks she'd almost given in French. With a slow breath, she slipped away from the table, pointedly ignoring the concerned looks from Harry, and the curious gazes of the twins. If she wasn't careful, _that_ pair would likely set up something rather loud and obnoxious for the girls' dorms because they knew she had a headache.

_**TBC**_

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><p><strong><em>This chapter has been edited thanks to kind reviewers who have corrected my (google's) French.<em>**


	10. Chapter 9

_**Disclaimer in preface. Review/reader responses found at the end of chapter.**_

_**Dialogue in Bold is spoken in French... easier than me attempting to use Google translate, and then having to tell you what it means anyway... and having gotten half of it wrong because it's just Google Translate.**_

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><p>Hermione groaned to herself softly, squinting out from under her blanket. The first day or two had been torturous, and she'd nearly hexed the twins for setting off some random explosion in the commons, heard too loudly in the dormitories. Perhaps it hadn't been a real explosion, but it had sounded as such. Words and languages had finally stopped echoing in her head the previous evening, though, and much though there was an aggravating ache at the base of her skull, it wasn't as agonizing as it had been at first. Likely, she would only be grumpy, and a potion from the infirmary would help to ease the pain. Most importantly, she'd missed two days of classes already, and had this last day of rest before returning.<p>

Her yearmates had already left the room for the day, probably off to breakfast or classes... she didn't really know what time it was. Hermione squirmed out of bed, not daring to look at herself in a mirror until she'd had a long soak in the baths, and perhaps a hot cup of tea. She felt hungover. The library, after she'd refreshed herself, would probably prove quiet and dark enough. She'd loved immersing herself in the stacks the few times she'd tried firewhiskey before.

By the time she'd bathed, dressed, and struggled a comb through her tangle of curls, Hermione felt marginally better. The not-quite-a-clock in the commons indicated that the time was just a bit into first period, as she watched one of the hands transfigure itself into the words "You're Late" from a normal clock hand. Whichever clever seventh year had done it, she would have to thank them... and then insist on finding out how it was done. Hermione wondered, briefly, if she could talk some boiled eggs and strong tea out of the elves in the kitchens before she retreated to the stacks. Either way, she'd need travel as a fox, lest one of the professors catch her out of class and not abed.

Of course, the house elves were more than willing to ply her with as much food as she could stand in her brief trip to the kitchens. They all seemed to be fairing well, too, flattered and grateful that she asked after their health and well-being during her quick meal. She did much the same just a bit after lunch, though she briefly wished that she dared to bring the food with her to the library. So long as the food wasn't messy, and she ate with only one hand, using the other to turn pages and write notes, she didn't particularly dislike the combination of nibbling on food while reading... but she daren't let Ron or Harry do such, lest stains appear when she wasn't looking, and Madam Pince was very strict about what was allowed in the library. At least she was read ahead in all of her classes, even if she'd still be asking after notes once she'd gotten to some of her classmates. Mostly she was just reading up on extra things, attempting an advantage for when she took her OWLs at the end of the year.

"Mione!" The exclamation made her wince, though luckily it wasn't for the pain in her head. The aching had mostly gone, finally, but she knew that she was in for too much questioning when her friends caught up with her. Sheepishly, she looked up at her best friends. Ginny, at least, had come by briefly enough to know that she'd been afflicted with a terrible headache. Harry plopped down next to her happily, eyes wide and eager. "You're finally better!"

"Told you, bloke. Too much studying'll kill ya." Ron mumbled, sliding instead into a wooden chair and staring at the chess set that had been settled on a secluded table. "She prolly barely survived. Her an' 'er bloody books."

"What happened?" Harry was still smiling, wiggling in place and ignoring Ron's grumbles. She shrugged absently, not minding much that Ron was more interested in the chess pieces. Boy was almost a genius with the game... if only he'd put that much focus into his studies.

"A spell gone wrong." She hazarded, making Ron snort and Harry roll his eyes. "I'm alright, really... it just... I wasn't ready for it, and my head suffered the consequences." That was the truth, mostly. If she'd been ready, and relaxed, as she should have been... then likely she wouldn't have suffered more than the initial dizziness that the others had. "It was not too much studying, Ronald. Honestly, I don't think there is such a thing."

"You've missed everything, Hermione." He retorted. "Might as well 'ave been almost dying." His hand hesitated over one of the pieces, then withdrew, and he contemplated the board again. "It's been a riot in the meal hall and classes."

"A couple of the Beauxbatons girls are part Veela." Harry offered, moving to stare out the window at the grounds below. The weather was unseasonably warm for January, and most of the students were out enjoying the warmth while they could. Admittedly, their cloaks and warmer clothes were still needed, but there was only a light layer of snow on the ground, the sky was clear, and the sun was shining merrily. There was a small gaggle of Ravenclaws easily in sight, and she noted his gaze on them. Even at a distance, and wearing the uniform robes and scarves of Hogwarts, the exchange students could be picked out by sight. "Fleur Delacour, in our house, and the older redhead, Madeline something."

Hermione focused briefly on the girls he was staring at, noting that they lacked a Gryffindor scarf. Fleur wasn't with them. Her mind went briefly to when the French girl had carried her off after the dance, and how she'd thought that Fleur had seemed something just a bit more than fully human. Veela made an odd amount of sense... especially as France hosted several Veela colonies, as did some of the more northern, Slavic countries. The foreign creature blood was probably more than a little exciting to the Hogwarts students, as Veela were rather exotic to the United Kingdoms' wizarding community. "They're probably being stared at even more now." Her voice was pitying, and held a slight aggressive edge. Fleur put up with it enough before... unfortunately likely due partially to the ethereal aura of Veela blood... but now with the knowledge out, people would stare blatantly simply because of it as well.

"Of course people are staring... they're practically Sirens." Harry sounded excited and scandalized, and she glared at the back of his messy hair. He was still staring out the window, as if he could pick out the supposed creature-blooded girl. She was fairly sure that if she caught him doing that while she was in her fox-form, she'd bite him. "No wonder Fleur's always seemed so... magical."

"We're _all_ magical, Harry. You go to a wizarding school." She deadpanned, nearly growling. Sometimes she wondered at the mental state of the boy's head. They'd been best friends for years, and sometimes he just seemed so clueless. "And they're not Sirens."

"You know what I mean, Mione. I've seen you watch her curiously sometimes too." Harry turned to roll his eyes at her, before looking out of the window again. "And aren't Veela just what Sirens evolved into? I mean, sirens aren't around anymore…"

"Not actually. Veela are as closely related to the Selkie as to Sirens, moreso sometimes." Hermione offered with a slight shrug, glancing over at Ron, who was completely ignoring the conversation. The boy might be a bit of a Quiddich nut, but sometimes he knew even more about magical creatures than she did… which was frightening in a way. "The Veela clans and families have always been a bit vague on the subject, but supposedly the start of Veela heritage began with a Selkie male mating to either a Siren or a bird-maiden… and that over time they became their own species. It's why Veela are prone to favoring wizards that are Animagi with attention, be that good or ill… instinctively their interest is drawn, because of the distant Selkie heritage." Her eyes widened, and she tried not to let out a panicked squeak as her own words registered. That explained Fleur's attraction to her fox, at least a bit. The girl wouldn't fully realize that it was an animagi, but she'd feel drawn to it. She wondered what Fleur and this Madeline girl behaved like around Sirius and McGonagall.

Harry was silent for another moment, running a hand through his already wild hair and still staring out the window. Then, finally, he turned back toward her, looking exasperated. "What the bloody hell is a Selkie then?" He squinted, dropping his hand, and made a slight pout.

"Blimey, Harry, you never pay attention in Magical Creatures." Ron scoffed, not even looking up from his chess board. "They're aquatic magical creatures that transfigure back and forth from human to seal… but instead of being like wizards their true form is the seal and the temporary form is the human. They speak the same language as merfolk… and are bloody vicious when you interrupt their… erm… games…."

"Games?" Harry glanced at Hermione when Ron refrained from expanding upon that information, re-absorbed into his next move against the mystery opponent. Hermione's eyes widened and she blushed, quickly excusing herself. That was not the type of 'game' she was about to explain about to Harry. If he didn't know what Ron meant… or buggeration, if he _did_ and still didn't know how it could be considered games, she wasn't going to explain it.

"I have to go to the library." Hermione turned and bolted, ignoring Harry's shouted question about what games they meant, and hurried away from the Gryffindor tower, still blushing. She'd barely gotten over her headache, she didn't need another from sheer embarrassment and Harry's cluelessness.

Hermione had spent the majority of the day reading in the library, and much though her friends might not believe it, she did have other interests. It wasn't hard to duck into an alcove, and transfigure down into her fox form. Absently, as she attempted to not think about Selkie 'games' and Harry's cluelessness, she wondered if there were any consequences to spending so much time in her animal form.

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><p>She found, with a huffed little sigh, Fleur tucked away on the Willow's landing. Likely it had become the retreat for the French exchange students, and the others would join her eventually. At least it hadn't been a favored private spot for her studies for the past year or so. She had mostly been drawn there, over the course of the year, to check on Fluer, or as random instinct. The blonde seemed a bit irritated, but not overly upset, which meant that she'd probably noticed the extra staring, but wasn't mortally offended by it.<p>

"**My little friend.**" The words floated easily through her mind, and her ears twitched toward the girl that had, apparently, noticed her lurking at the entrance to the area. It took her until she had almost reached Fleur to realize that the blonde had spoken in French. "Merde, zese Eenglish. Zey do not understand it _rude_ to stare as eef I were... what eez the expression... to do a trick." Hermione looked up at the girl with big, sympathetic eyes, and a soft smile curved the previously pursed lips. "Eet iz not as eef zey do not 'ave ozers of creature blood 'ere." Fleur sighed, curling a hand around Hermione's furry back and casually moving her fingers in a petting motion as the fox got settled next to her. She'd given up on resisting the intoxicating petting of the blonde, especially as Fleur obviously needed someone to confide in. "Ze groundskeeper, 'oo teaches ze classes _about_ magical creatures, obviously 'as giant blood in 'im." Fleur huffed, and Hermione snorted. She hadn't really considered it before, though that should have been obvious. "And ze Charms professeur, 'e is just as obviously of goblin blood." Fleur briefly wrinkled her aquilline nose, and then squinted down at the fox, Hermione staring back up at the blonde attentively. "I 'ave seen zis before, ze goblin mixes... and zey always surprise me. _Goblin_." The wrinkle returned, and Hermione probably would have laughed if she were currently human.

Babble of the like continued for a while thereafter, moving eventually from the obvious presence of those with creature blood, and that the students shouldn't find her such a novelty, to idle observations about the instruction methods in her classes compared to when she had been at her home school. Hermione didn't doubt that Fleur had complained about or commented on the differences more than once before, but it was still somewhat calming to listen to the girl's voice float around her as she relaxed into the petting, ears twitching to prove she was still listening. Fleur was in a talkative mood, probably pent up frustration from the staring, but she was, at least, not looking so aggravated anymore.

"You are always here, Fleur." The teasing voice brought Hermione's attention over to the entrance, head up and alert, ears perked. "**It is good that this place is so soothing. An escape from the rude little beasts at this school.**" Hermione tilted her head, eyeing the girl suspiciously. All of them had come, and Hermione might have growled at the words, if she hadn't thought something similar, if less biting, about the staring not much earlier that day. "**With your temper, it is a wonder that many of them survive their classes with you. Did you hex anyone today?**"

"**Only one of the snake-boys... in the green.**" Fleur sighed, shrugging, and trailed her fingers through Hermione's fur again. "**He thought that because my grandmother is Veela, that I would welcome advances. It is surprising, but the annoying little blonde boy, that befriended the Bulgarian, looked ready to hex him too.**" Fleur grumbled and huffed, and Hermione stared at her for a moment. Draco had been ready to defend her?

The redhead eyed the fox warily as they all settled around the French blonde, and Hermione eyed her back just as warily, wondering why Draco had cared. "**I know that one. I believe he has the blood as well. It is in the eyes, and nose.**" Hermione remembered Harry mentioning that this one was part-Veela as well, and shifted again, a little closer to Fleur. "**With hair like his, I would imagine him either very lucky in his human blood, or that his Veela is of your grandmother's family.**"

Fleur was quiet for a moment, and Hermione realized that she was eyeing the redhead with as much suspicion as Hermione had been, hand protectively around the curl of her back. "We 'ave... **My mother has a cousin somewhere in England. It would be unsurprising to find that he is somehow related to her.**" The blonde sighed and shifted uncomfortably. "**At least in the Defense class, the professor has forbade them to have me as a distraction. Whatever these points are for, he took fifty from one of the boys for staring too long at me.**" Madeline, the redhead, tittered an annoying giggle in response. "**Oh silence. He is not that attractive... I do not understand your interest in him. He is intelligent at least, and answers many questions that I have about cursebreaking.**"

"**You study too much, Fleur.**" The words, so familiar, even in another language, made Hermione huff out an indignant yip, and several of the girls laughed. The general consensus seemed to be that the fox agreed with them.

_**TBC**_

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><p><em><strong>General responses: Hi! It's been forever. Life is still life, mental-state is still... well... what it is... but I'm trying. No apologies beyond that all of my stories seem to take forever to actually get to the "together" portion. I suppose it's because most of them are more about the journey to getting to be a couple, than the being a couple itself. That probably says something about me as a person...<strong>_

_**Shout-out to DivoDog because she's DivoDog.**_


	11. Chapter 10

_**This update may or may not be a WIP. I blame the ice and cold.**_

_**Disclaimer in preface.**_

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><p>"Well what, exactly, do you <em>want<em> to do after Hogwarts?" one of the Hufflepuff beaters asked jovially, juggling his bat. Hermione smirked slightly at the question. She'd come out to the practice game between the teams -awfully good natured of them, and not actually involving a Sntich- due to her friends' complaints that she was never around anymore. Admittedly she hadn't been about much since her time begun training with Sirius, and her excuse of studying for the OWLS was met too easily with rolled eyes and scoffs, but it had brought about the subject of quickly approaching exams. "You have to have some idea. The OWLS place you for sixth and seventh years, and you should concentrate on what you'll need. I wanted to work in potions and cures, but Snape requires an O on your Potions exam for his advanced classes... so I'll probably have to study it in Mastery Schooling instead."

Harry and Ron both flushed brightly as the Twins finally returned with the stray Bludgers that had gone off wild after the quick match. "Potions? Fred only got an E on that 'n, so we're split that period." George grumbled, shrugging. "I got an E on my Charms, though, so we're even."

"Hermione's the only one of you that shouldn't need to study for it, and she's the only one doing it, mates." Fred laughed, ruffling Ron's hair playfully. "She's already stolen all our notes from last year."

"I did not steal them!" She huffed indignantly, glaring at the boys. "I _won_ them." She growled and grumbled lightly under her breath at the echoing laughter of both boys, and a few of the Hufflepuff players that had stuck around to chat. "And your notes from History of Magic were useless. If you could even call those doodles notes."

"Well... erm... I was thinking of, maybe, becoming an Auror... like Sirius." The bashful mumble drew the attention of the majority of the group, and Ginny rolled her eyes along with Ron. Hermione smiled, knowing how much the boy admired her uncle. They'd known each other longer than she had, and she suspected that his influence over Harry, as Godfather, had always been stronger than most because of James Potter's time away to play professionally.

One of the Hufflepuff Chasers whistled, obviously impressed, and grumbled about wishing he'd known how tough some of Professor Black's seventh year lessons were before deciding on the class when he was younger. Ginny, and another Gryffindor Chaser, snorted and nodded, knowing well that Sirius did not go easy on them just because he was a friend of the family. Often, they felt as if he was even harder on them, especially Hermione. "Doesn't Auror training require you to pass advanced potions?" The Beater that had started the questioning asked, eyebrows raised. "Getting an O is hard, mate. I was always pretty decent at potions, and I couldn't manage it."

"Personally, I won't settle for below an O in Defense, Potions, or Transfiguration. It would be nice to get one in Charms and Runes as well... but I won't insist on retaking them at the end of summer if I receive an E." Hermione sighed. She didn't know if she was going to manage an O on all of her exams, with all of the time she'd taken off of studying for her animagi training. Nevertheless, she had no doubts whatsoever about Transfiguration, after so much study to help her return transformation, and she'd been studying her uncle's advanced Defense books for longer than she was supposed to have access to them. "We can study Potions together, Harry, if you really want to be an Auror." She eyed Ron skeptically. "Any idea what you want to do, Ronald?"

"I dunno." He wrinkled his nose and adjusted some of the uniform padding he hadn't removed when the match had ended. "Only thing I'm really good at is Magical Creatures." His reluctant, embarrassed admittance made the twins laugh again, teasing him in their echoing twinspeak about making up his mind quickly _Ronnikins_. "What do you think Krum is studying?" Ron asked after several moments in a desperate attempt to change the subject. "Mate's got his career made. Don't see why he didn't just join the Slavic league."

"He's focusing on History and Runes." Ginny offered offhandedly, surprising everyone. Hermione smiled knowingly at her friend, making the youngest Weasley blush. "He'd probably have good notes for History if you needed them, Hermione."

"What do you know about Krum?" one of the twins demanded suspiciously; Hermione thought it was Fred. He had an outer appearance of playful mischief, but she could sense his underlying protectiveness. Ginny glared at her brother instead of answering. "He's only ever in the library or with that prat, Malfoy."

"He's talked to me, a few times, when I was studying." Ginerva's casual delivery did nothing to assuage her brother's suspicion, but Hermione tried to distract him anyway.

"Draco really isn't all that horrible." She shrugged, earning scoffs all around. "He's a bit arrogant, sure, but he _is_ brilliant, and he has his good moments. I bet if more people would give him a chance, and actually be nice to him," here she glared around at all three of the redheaded boys and Harry, "he would thaw a bit. Viktor likes him, and he's a very nice man."

"He's a brat, yeah... but I think it's just because everyone expects it of him now." Ginny agreed, shrugging. "He's my year, and I see him in the classes we share with Slytherin. I wouldn't invite him to Christmas dinner, but I wouldn't leave him on his own in a pinch either."

Talk dissolved after that into how the boy behaved in the Quidditch pitch, and thereafter into talk of the sport, instead of school. Hermione could only hope that her friends had taken it to heart when the other players had cautioned about studying for the OWLS. She briefly considered searching out Krum and asking if he had any old notes to spare from History at his old school... but even if he was aware of her ability to speak his native language now, it did not translate to the written word, and all of his notes would be in Cyrillic. Of course there was the possibility of finding a translation charm to change the letters into something she _could_ read, but the research to find such a spell, and then translate every page, would equate to studying the material from books anyway.

"Hey Hermione..." Harry mumbled, grabbing lightly at the sleeve of her robe as they exited their Charms class the next day. She arched an eyebrow at him, reaching with her spare hand to flick hair out of her face. He looked embarrassed. "Erm... you said... you'd help study, since Ron and I are so bloody behind in it now? I know we should have listened when you warned us about it on the _train_, but please? Sirius said that he'll be having Continuation classes, and Advanced classes, now, instead of just what you'd make by passing your Defense OWLS. We have to make an E or O to get into Advanced, because it can be dangerous." He let go of her sleeve and tried to implore her with wide eyes. She snorted in response. "And then we can maybe talk Potions? Mum gave me old notes from when she was in school with Professor Snape... you can probably make them stick better than just reading." He added a pout in for dramatic effect, and she sighed.

"Fine... I need to return one of uncle's books anyway. We might as well fetch one of the others for extra study for you." she sighed again and suppressed a smile, wrapping an arm around his elbow and dragging him off with her. "Where's Ronald?"

"Probably rushing to the chess board again. They've been dancing around Check back and forth for three days." Harry smiled. "He's desperate to find out who's playing him." Hermione laughed lightly at the thought. She'd already seen the other player, not that either boy know, and had a feeling that Ronald would be stunned if he ever found out. No one ever seemed to pay the short boy any mind, and even she wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't been reading late and seen him pacing around the chess board in careful thought. "What book do you have? Maybe I could read that instead?"

"It's seventh year or mastery at least." She mumbled, shuffling through her bag to assure she had it with her still. The Undetectable Expansion Charm she'd placed on her bag was too useful, really, and she'd been relieved to find it when she had. "I've been puzzling through it for most of the year. Uncle will probably know what to suggest to prepare you for the OWLS best. You should also read through the whole of the class's assigned text at least two times on your own."

"What are you doing studying _mastery_ defense books, Hermione?" Harry stared at her, a baffled grin twitching at his lips. "They're just the OWLS!" He laughed lightly, and she blushed, shaking her head. "If I didn't know you so well, Hermione, that big brain of yours would be bloody frightening."

"It has a brilliant section on complex wards." She slowed her steps, smile and words trailing off as they approached her uncle's class room. Harry's eyes widened just slightly at the sight of a tall blonde girl stood just inside the doorway, and he glanced quickly between the blonde's back and Hermione's suddenly reluctant expression. "Er..."

"Perhaps I was keeping it in my office?" Sirius's voice trailed out to them as they drew to a halt behind the blonde, and Harry made a poor attempt at stifling his laughter at the sight of the professor's upper half disappearing into his trunk. "Miss Delacour I may needs request you see me in my office later, as the book does not seem to be where I last placed it. Admittedly it's been a year or three since I last perused its pages." Sirius stood, his curling hair flying every which way as he was once again upright, and Hermione mumbled an apology as she edged around the French girl, keeping her eyes turned away from the blonde. "Hermione! Harry!"

"Hello, Professor Black." Hermione smiled brightly at him, face still turned away from Fluer cautiously, and paranoid worry shined in her too-wide eyes. "We're sorry to interrupt. Here." Hermione quickly pulled the book she'd been reading, and then re-reading, since the start of the fifth year, shrugging apologetically. "I'd wanted to return that to you, and request a meeting later? A bit of extra study suggestions for Harry." She shuffled to the side, angling herself that she was partially facing Fluer, but her bushy hair hid most of her features and eyes. "Our apologies for interrupting, Miss Delacour."

"This is what I was looking for!" Sirius laughed, stepping around Hermione and pressing the book into the blonde's hands. Fluer was looking at Hermione in a mixture of fascination and irritation, and Harry quickly stepped out of the way in case she decided to rush off in a huff. "Please, read this, but do not attempt anything within. When you've read through it once, come see me again and we can discuss some extra work and practical uses of its materials."

"Oui. Merci, Proffeseur Black." She answered softly, finally turning her gaze back to the man. A bit skeptically, Fleur glanced at the semi-worn book that had been handed to her. "Ah... she eez... 'ow old?"

"Nevermind that." Sirius gave the girl a stern look, his voice not quite a growl, though Hermione could just imagine his hackles rising a bit if he were in fur. "This was one of my Auror Mastery books, and that is why it is very important that you do not attempt anything within until we have discussed it."

"Oui." Fleur nodded curtly, glanced once more at Hermione, and then walked stiffly away, seeming to not even notice Harry standing there too. He laughed nervously.

"I would ask what you were doing with the book, but I already know your answer." Sirius grumbled, glaring at his niece good-naturedly. The next bit Harry spoke in tandem with him: "Just some light reading."

"Well I wouldn't be able to test some of the more interesting bits in there anyway, as I haven't anywhere so protected to break into." Hermione sniffed at him, and then glanced curiously at where Fleur had disappeared from. "We were, erm, hoping that you could suggest a different book for Harry? He's worried about his OWLS."

"She's studying ahead for when she goes into Mastery after Hogwarts, Hermione." Sirius shrugged, and then pulled Harry further into the room, ruffling the boy's wild hair. "Harry shouldn't have much to worry about. He could easily get an E as he is. That's enough for my Advanced class."

"Harry, I'll swipe another book from him for you to read through after we've gone through the assigned text." Hermione rolled her eyes at her uncle. "Really, you _did _give me a key to the trunk, you should expect me to go through your books by now."

"You think I'll do an E on my Defense?" Harry asked with palpable relief.

"If you pay attention for the rest of the year." Sirius admonished, ignoring Hermione's words. "Reading through the book and practicing outside of class too would help. You're top in practical application, Harry, but you are a bit weak in theory. Listen to her, she'll get you to an O." He ruffled the wild mop of hair again, still charmed with how Harry's wild hair so resembled his father's. "Observe some of the matches that the duelling club has. Ron would do well there, he's a strategist's mind, when he actually bothers to pay attention."

"Oh, Ron only cares about chess and creatures." Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes. "Would you mind us using your classroom on the weekends, for practice? Should I find somewhere else?"

"The spare class room above that stubborn, curling stairwell would do better, in case others of my fifth years wish the room. Exam panic is beginning to set in." He looked pointedly at his godson, and Harry had the good sense to appear bashful. "See if you can convince Ronald to get a _little_ studying done?" Harry just laughed uncomfortably, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

**_TBC_**


	12. Chapter 11

_**Short and unedited, another bit from when I was bored from the cold last weekend. May or may not be edited.**_

_**Disclaimer in preface.**_

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><p>Hermione smiled softly around at her friends, relaxing back into one of the common room chairs. Ron hadn't shown, but she and Harry had had a wonderful practice session with the more complex spells that her uncle was covering in their year, and her oldest friend had produced the old notes that he'd promised. She'd easily recognized Lilly Potter's handwriting, but mixed in with it were scratches and scribbles, correcting, changing, and contradicting things that had been learned in class. Harry had admitted that it was probably Professor Snape's writing from when he was younger, as the creepy man had been friends with his mum for a long while. Even with the notes bundled into her bag, waiting for her study and perusal, she felt they'd had quite the productive day. Classes were going wonderfully, at least so much as material covered and the attentiveness of the students - everyone seemed to be suddenly aware of the impending OWLS - and Harry had done quite well in their practice. Ginny and the twins were babbling something about their summer together, Harry and Ron joking about something else, and she quite relished in the brief relaxation. It was almost as soothing as when she slept in her fur with Fleur petting her ears.<p>

The girl's nose twitched and she jerked back just slightly, hoping it wasn't too obvious that she'd done so, as she realized she'd had that thought. With the French girl on her mind, and confused embarrassment from the thought of being pet as a fox, Hermione glanced about in absent search of the blonde. Fleur was, oddly, curled by the common room's fireplace, reading the book that she'd gotten from Sirius. There was still staring from some of the other Gryffindors, though most seemed to be occupied with whatever entertainment their friends were being, but Hermione still might have thought the girl would seek out a quieter venue of study. The library perhaps, or nestled in the roots of that tree.

"Oy, Hermione." She jerked her head back around, staring wide-eyed at the twins. Her nose twitched, it was Fred talking. "You might wanna skip potions tomorrow, yeah? Or take one of the back ways?"

Her eyes narrowed, and a single hand lifted to tousle slightly at her hair. "Really?" Her tone was suspicious, and George laughed nervously, throwing an arm around his brother's neck. "You know that if Snape catches you, he'll have you in detention for the rest of the year."

"Oh Hermione."

"Ye of little faith."

"We never get caught!" Them speaking in tandem made her even more skeptical, and Ginny rolled her eyes. She hadn't any intentions of skipping her lessons, so one of the hidden passageways would have to be used, but she wondered if it would even be necessary. Snape had always been rather adept at catching the troublemakers when they went anywhere near his room or potion storage. Privately, she believed him to be a Legilimens, but she hadn't ever the opportunity, or bravery, to ask him about it. She had, however, made it a point to concentrate on potions, and only potions, while in his classroom though.

"Hey, why'd you tell her and not me!" Ron exclaimed, sitting up indignantly. They both shrugged, and Hermione smirked. "I'm your brother!"

"Yeah, but _you_ wouldn't know any alternate ways to get _to_ classes, would you?" She sniffed discreetly, and thought the one speaking might be George.

"Especially to Potions classes."

"Besides, we like her." Maybe-George added after his brother, thumbing in Hermione's direction. "You're just Wonnikins."

"Don't get caught." Hermione interrupted, eyeing them both, and then glaring at Ronald. "And you don't know any secret passages to and from the Potions hall. You avoid Snape's domain like the plague." He pouted at her. "Just meet me before classes in the corridor behind the third secret entrance to the kitchens. It shouldn't be difficult for you to find that, should it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron grumbled, still pouting, and Hermione shivered with one of the breezes stirring up in the castle. It was proving to be a rather chilly night, and as old as Hogwarts was, the castle could get rather drafty at times. Idly, she glanced back at Fleur again, and noticed the blonde huddle closer to the fire. That was probably why she'd stayed in the commons, instead of studying in her room, or going off to the library or the tree's balcony. This would be the warmest place for her to read.

"Hey Harry, do you still have that enchanted muggle-blanket you borrowed from me last year?" Hermione wondered aloud, her attention half on the French girl.

"Yeah. Mum made me one like it, in Gryffindor colors." Harry smiled, attempting to gain her attention from wherever she was glancing at. "Did you want it back?"

"Er... yeah. Thanks. Could you bring it down for me? I think I might head up and take a look through those notes, too. They might come in handy if Snape is in a foul mood because of the troublemakers tomorrow." She turned and offered the boy a bright smile. The twins guffawed, and Harry blushed, Ginny commenting beneath the racket of her brothers' noise that she'd thought that Hermione had already cast warming charms on her bed.

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><p>Fleur shivered slightly as she shuffled into her room in the Gryffindor dormitory. Warm as the Hogwarts uniforms seemed to be sometimes, the castle was still dreadfully drafty, and an ice storm had blown in from the Scottish countryside. She missed the warmth of Beauxbatons' golden halls, and regularly wondered why she had bid for one of the transfer positions. It was true that the Defense Professor was rather talented, as was the little Charms Professor, but their Potions Master was a vile man, and the ghost that taught History was horrid. Her only comforts for this dreadful place were the little fox and the possibility that the Defense Professor would advance her training to Mastery level before she'd graduated. If the book that girl had returned was any indication, she would be quite adept by the end of her seventh year.<p>

Fleur paused, her brows knitting in annoyance and suspicion as she saw an object perched upon her bed. None of those doting boys could ascend to the female dormitory, so she doubted it being from one of her in-thrall admirers, but there were few others that had paid her positive attention. Approaching cautiously, she peered at the object, considering a few detection spells to see if it was cursed, maybe from someone disliking creature blood.

_The castle can be drafty in the worst parts of winter. This should help to keep you warm. Thank-you for trying to protect me from Peeves._

The short note was casually pinned to the top of what appeared to be a blanket. Even as it seemed to be from the little fox, however that was possible, Fleur cast a few detection spells over the thing. It was enchanted, that much came back glaringly obvious, but she found no danger or ill intent. Carefully touching, and then unfolding, the gift, she found a larger and larger blanket, seemingly bigger than the appearance of it folded would indicate. When she'd finally opened it all the way, it was a gorgeously embroidered woolen blanket depicting a vaguely familiar painting. Curiously, she debated between using it, or waiting until she'd had it more thoroughly investigated, but another of those horrid drafts tickled at the back of her neck, and that seemed to settle the matter. They'd a hospital wing in the school, and she hadn't found anything too obviously dangerous about it, so she'd risk it for the extra layer of warmth while she slept.

Fleur's eyes widened in shock as she finally slid beneath her blankets after readying for bed. She hadn't the warmest evening wear with her, not having anticipated the magical school being so chilled of a night, and hadn't been the most comfortable previously because of this. Her brief hope that once when she'd brought the fox with her, of a fuzzy body to help with warmth as she slept, had been dashed. This, though... with the woven blanket draped over her bed, she felt as toasty as if she lay beneath a midsummer's noonday sun. Her toes curled in pleasure, and she smiled softly. Whoever was behind this was either connected with the fox, or the fox itself, and she much appreciated that wonderful individual. Why, with how small the thing could fold down, she could easily tote it around with her for warmer study about the castle. Fleur fell asleep to pleasant thoughts of reading wrapped in the blanket, a little furry body in her lap.

_**TBC**_


	13. Chapter 12

_**Longer one this time. Working my way toward more teasing of my readers... because I'm like that.**_

_**Disclaimer in preface.**_

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><p>Hermione tried not to twitch or glance up as the slightly floral scent of Ginny Weasley reached her. She'd noticed that the longer she stayed out of her fox form, the more scents and sounds seemed to stand out to her, as if her fox was attempting to seek some sort of expression through her senses. It had lead to more than one internal debate on the possible duality between animal and human personalities as an animagus matured... Sirius did often refer to his dog as Padfoot, as if it were its own mind and entity instead of an aspect of himself. She'd ask Professor McGonagall, if she weren't hiding her status as an animagus until she'd graduated.<p>

"Gonna ignore me then?" Ginny's voice was tight, and Hermione slowly glanced up at her from the notes she'd been continuing to pour over. Harry and Ron were late meeting her to take a secret passage to the Potions hall. "Thought so."

"Why would I be ignoring you, Gin? You're one of my best friends." Hermione hummed, returning the majority of her attention to the potions notes. If the scribbles that seemed to be Professor Snape's teenage handwriting were any indication, there was no wonder the man had become a Master. "And Hagrid let us go early, class doesn't end for another few moments... what are you doing here?"

"I skipped out on Potions. I don't want to get caught up in whatever the twins are doing." Ginny wrinkled her nose and poked at the pages of notes in Hermione's hands. She also ignored the reproving glare given her for doing so, and skipping a class. "I saw someone very... interesting... carrying something even more... interesting... this morning."

"That's awfully specific there, Ginny. Could you be a bit more vague? Make things more challenging for me?" Hermione intoned sarcastically, shuffling the notes into her bag as she would obviously not be getting much reading done while waiting for the boys. Ginerva glowered at her in response, huffed, and then looked around pointedly to assure that her brother and Harry weren't nearby yet.

"That French girl- Fleur?- had something tucked under her arm that I am _sure _was your enchanted blanket." Ginny hissed, folding her arms and looking expectantly at her. "The exact blanket that you asked Harry to return to you last night before going to bed early."

"It's entirely possible that she was carrying something else, or her own blanket, Ginny." Hermione huffed, glaring back and trying not to growl. She definitely needed to spend some time as the fox, get those animal urges out of her system a bit. Ginny scoffed. "It's not as if I know her, Gin. We've never spoken, and we're certainly not friends. Why would she have something belonging to me?"

The redhead couldn't exactly deny that, though her gaze was still suspicious. "You watch her sometimes. Viktor's noticed too. Did you give it to her or something?"

"Viktor?" Hermione prodded, driving Ginny to blush, and she smirked in victory. "Viktor who likes history and runes?"

"We talk. He's nice." She pouted, and Hermione smirked more. "He's taken me to Hogsmeade on the last few trips." The blush was rather bright, and the girl shifted uncomfortably. "It's weird to be dating someone that fancied you so."

"Viktor didn't know me, Gin. It's hard to care about someone, at least like that, when you don't know the person." Hermione shrugged, blushing slightly. "That's done with now anyway. Is it that strange for someone to fancy me? You sound like Harry."

"People can fancy you all they want." Ginny snorted, pushing lightly at Hermione's shoulder. "It's just weird for my boyfriend to." Hermione laughed along with her. "He said every time he would look at you during meals you'd either be arguing with the boys, or watching Fleur... you never looked back... so he's gotten past it. Draco still thinks he's odd for it."

"Slytherins go after what they want, it's what they do." Hermione ignored the second hint about her attention on Fleur, especially after her friend had demonstrated knowing the French girl's name. "He probably just doesn't understand why Viktor didn't. I never noticed him until you lot pointed it out anyway. You two are a better match."

Ginny continued blushing, and sighed when she saw Harry rushing to meet up with them. "I'll not forget that blanket, Mione." It was mumbled as she pushed away to head to her own class. "Don't wait too long for my brother, he might try to get caught up in the twins' prank just to get out of class."

"He did say he'd catch up." Harry had obviously heard the second part, and waved idly as Ginny disappeared around a corner. "Let's go... I don't want to even think about Snape's mood if we're late on top of whatever they're doing. Sorry, but Ron was dragging."

"It's alright, come on." Hermione dragged him around a different corner, between a pair of statues, and into a crevice behind an old tapestry. As humans they barely fit, and Harry complained about the tight squeeze. She ignored him, of course, knowing that the path became wider a few feet in, leading into one of the hidden corridors and stairwells.

Just as they were exiting from a creaky old closet at the mustier end of the Potions hall, they heard a loud bang, followed by whizzing sounds and flashes of light. Grumbling to herself, Hermione scowled at the sparkling lights and flares that continued- mossy, flowering plant-life was quickly spreading through the hallway. Explosions continued, obviously the twins' version of magical fireworks, their sparkling lights landing on the stonework and sprouting more and more of the greenery. The light and life of it certainly brought a merry change to the dank, musty hall, but she knew that Snape would probably be in a fit over it. "Bloody hell..." Harry's astonished whisper made her growl, she couldn't hold it back, and she grabbed his wrist to quickly drag him into the room. "There were vines and weeds starting up too! People won't be able to get through there soon!"

"Vanishing is a fifth year lesson in Transfiguration, Harry. Anyone in our class should be able to work together to make a path if they really wish to." she sighed, frowning. Any of the professors would be able to vanish the greenery as well, as wild and lovely as the end result probably would have been. Either way, it would likely disrupt too much of the day, and the learning she really wished to accomplish in this class. She didn't feel too terribly weak in Potions, but looking through those notes had made her feel a little less sure of her skill. "Haven't you managed to vanish a mouse yet? Something as simple as moss and weeds should be easy in comparison to a mammal."

"Not yet." He mumbled, ducking his head down and sliding further in his chair as Snape stalked from his office, through the room, and into the hall to investigate the noise and ruckus. The man's robes billowed around him like an ominous cape or bat wings, and she knew that the professor had often intimidated her friend. It was odd, considering the supposed friendship between Lily Potter and Professor Snape. Then again, comparing the family relationship with Sirius to that of the Potions Professor, she supposed that some awkwardness was expected. "I've managed a snail though."

"That's just practice and power, Harry. You'll have to practice for that one without me." She huffed, rolling her eyes. Professor McGonagall wasn't even making them Vanish something more complex than a mouse, and he hadn't managed that yet? She was sure it would be on their OWLS exam... and didn't Aurors need to be able to perform on themselves human-transfiguration? That was advanced level, and he'd need to get into the NEWT level classes to learn it. Shaking her head at that, Hermione reached into her bag to begin producing her Potions supplies and book, ready to attempt whatever concoction Snape would set them to, and hoping for another go at the Draught of Peace.

"What've you decided you want to be, then?" Harry whispered at her, still eyeing the doorway where Snape had disappeared. "I mean, you're brilliant, whatever it is shouldn't be that difficult, but..." he trailed off, obviously not really knowing where the sentence was headed.

"I haven't fully decided yet." She shrugged, though internally that caused her to cringe a bit. Sometimes she considered becoming and Auror, like her uncle, and like Harry wanted. It would certainly be challenging enough, and put whatever skills she acquired to good use. There were plenty of Dark Wizards out there, as well, causing more than enough trouble for the Wizarding World. Nevertheless, that seemed confining, especially when given the Ministry's occasional prejudice or reluctance with common sense. Minister Fudge often seemed like quite the coward and idiot whenever interviewed or seen; she wouldn't like someone of such appearance and caliber to be her superior. "I'd like to travel, and see the world... do something interesting and challenging. Ron's eldest brother, William, he's a cursebreaker for Gringotts, and that sounds rather exciting as well... though I'd much rather search for old magical lore and information than treasure." Harry stared at her incredulously. "Then there's other, less prominent jobs. I could always tour about gaining some experience before coming back here to teach, though I may attend Mastery schooling for spell creation."

"Nutter you are." Harry's words and smile were fond, and Hermione rolled her eyes in response, nudging him to direct his attention to Snape stalking back into the classroom. Most of the students for the class followed, though many had either bits of moss and flowers actually growing on their clothing, along with soot smudges on their faces, or the reddened-scrubbed look one got when one was Scourgified.

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><p>Fleur breathed out slowly, pulling her hair back into a simple, but effective, tail at the base of her neck. It would be well out of her way, and she needn't anything impairing her vision for the club duels. That curly-haired girl had trailed along to the meeting with that be-speckled boy she so often ate with. He'd been with the girl when she was returning the book to Professor Black as well. She didn't know why, but the girl's presence, and that somewhat gangly boy next to her, was unnerving her before the Dueling Club meet. She'd overheard the one with glasses speaking to Longbottom about being there to 'observe technique' or something similar. The only reason she'd even bothered to pay attention was that it had been obvious from the start that Longbottom was one of the few with obvious, formal training in dueling... even if he did flourish a bit too much in his casting.<p>

She trailed blue eyes slowly over to the curly mass of hair again, curious about the girl's presence at the club. Neither she, nor the boy, had attended before... and observations of technique was a rather flimsy excuse. Longbottom was still over there, attempting to chat nervously with them, and Fleur clenched her jaw as the overly-spirited, red-headed girl joined them too. _That_ one had stared at her far too often, especially over the past week, and it felt quite different than the in-thrall stares of shallow boys, or the scorned and fearful gaze of those who were prejudiced to creature-blood. She seemed suspicious and invasive with her gaze, and Fleur distinctly disliked it. Her jaw clenched, just slightly, as the redheaded girl greeted Longbottom with a pointed nudge and knowing grin, and began chatting with the other two. The indulgent smile and huff from that curly-haired girl only made her grip her wand all the tighter.

"Staring, staring. You're not the only one that does, Mione." The redhead's words reached her, though in a sing-song, too-loud whisper, and Fleur realized that she'd wandered a bit closer. The be-speckled boy wasn't paying them any mind, instead discussing something she didn't much care about with Longbottom, but the girl with the mass of curling hair was obviously glowering at the redhead now. Good, she was not the only one who found the ginger girl an annoyance. "Are you going to tell me what's going on yet?"

"Ginny, you're being ridiculous. We're here for Harry to study techniques for dueling and battles." The girl's voice was hissed, but it made Fleur smirk just slightly, and turn so that she could no longer see them. Perhaps she would challenge Longbottom... show them some real technique and skill. "And I'd love to see what some of the more creative ones come up with. There are fascinating things in some of the books that Sirius keeps tucked away in his trunk and shelves. I found one on Medieval dueling and submission spells that looked... well perhaps a bit barbaric in the more advanced chapters... but held fascinating counter hexes and submission curses. I'd imagine that at least some of the counter spells are still in use in advanced dueling. I wonder what level of Protego the majority of the members are capable of..."

"Level... of Protego?" The redhead sounded confused and worried, and Fleur smirked as she stretched out her fingers for when she would duel, ignoring the boys that were beginning to enter the room. "There are different levels of _Protego_?"

"Of course. Protego is the most basic shield spell, used in duels, that we're taught. I've managed Protego Duo, but not anything more advanced. The other Protego spells are primarily for area or territory defense, as opposed to personal defense as needed in Duels and Battle. Sirius will probably work higher level personal shielding spells into the Advanced curriculum. Patronus can be used as a shield as well, though not against everything, and then there's deflection... ooh they're warming up!" The girl was, well, babbling, but it made Fleur smile softly to herself. "It doesn't look like many of them are formally trained."

"Oh, that's Cedric Diggory!" The redhead sounded excited, and it dropped the grin from Fleur's lips quickly. She stepped discreetly away, not really wishing to hear their babble change from spell discussion to boys. "You'd like him, he's brilliant."

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><p>"Who's brilliant? Who would she like?" Harry popped up behind them, making Ginny twitch in surprise and glare at him. He was wearing a too-familiar pouting frown, and Hermione laughed a bit.<p>

"The Hufflepuff boy that is walking onto the dueling strip." Hermion offered, gesturing and ignoring Ginny's frantic headshake and effort to not let Harry know. "He looks a little arrogant, Ginny."

"Yeah, Ginerva, he looks arrogant." Harry didn't sound entirely sure, though he was obviously unhappy. Hermione brushed a few curling strands out of her face, watching in surprise and fascination as, of all people, Fleur moved to the opponent's position. "Oh... well..."

The irritating grin on Ginny's face when she saw the blonde bow made Hermione hold back a growl. Fleur seemed to have had formal training though, from the style of her bow and flourish, and the stance she took upon rising. Brilliant as Cedric was supposed to be, he looked loose and casual instead of appearing to have had a background in it. The first few volleys looked tentative, a fippendo from Cedric and a jelly-fingers jinx in return from Fleur, and she assessed that they were probably gaguing each other's defenses. The Hufflepuff looked surprised at the initial jinx sent at him, though, and Fleur seemed a bit on the angry side. Hermione briefly remembered how Fleur had gone after Peeves all that time ago, and tried to figure out how close to blowing up the girl was.

The following duel was... enlightening. Hermione attempted to explain it to Harry afterward, as the boy hadn't recognized several spells used, but she was still worried over what had the blonde so annoyed. Cedric's robes were sporting several slashes, though he didn't seem to have actual injuries from that spell, but she'd done worse. In the time of Cedric dodging a particularly powerful Ventus, she'd also cast a quick succession of Glacius spells, first freezing one of his feet to the ground, and then his wand hand. Fleur had suffered from a few dueling sparks and blasts, but once she'd frozen his hand and foot, he'd been unable to defend against the three spells she'd cast at him, one non-verbally. Flippendo Tria, what Hermione could only assume was Expelliarmus, and then that same jelly-fingered jinx. Cedric had been blown across the room, hitting the wall and breaking the ice around his hand. His wand had then been cast aside by her second spell, and he'd been unable to grab for it again when she'd hit him with the third. It was impressive, but the cold look that Fleur had given him afterward was... intimidating.

No one challenged Fleur to a duel for the remainder of the club meeting, and Professor Flitwick had to cast a counter-hex to give the boy full use of his hand back. Harry was quite impressed, as was Ginny, but Hermione had half of her attention on the huffy blonde for the remainder of the hour. It hadn't really seemed like Fleur to be so ruthless, even in a duel. She wasn't wild and shrieking, like she had when upset by Peeves, nor pouting or grumbling as she had on occasion when Hermione had found her as a fox. Something about Cedric had set the blonde off, and Hermione hadn't the first clue what it could be.

_**TBC**_


	14. Chapter 13

_**The last update that I wrote during the cold weekend a bit back... yes they've all been written and just waiting. I was putting time between them to make you wait.**_

_**Disclaimer in preface.**_

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><p>It had been two weeks of studying and practicing with Harry, attempting to get Ronald to work with them, and observing the thrice weekly meetings of the Dueling Club. It had become a habit for Harry to hover directly next to her throughout any of those meetings, and he trailed around with her even when they weren't off to study together. Honestly, she was starting to feel a little claustrophobic. It wasn't much more time than she'd spent with him in the past, but he hadn't been quite as... well... as needy then. Before he'd been just as interested in their adventure or whatever Ron was on about at the time, now he was almost always right at her elbow, asking about something completely senseless. It certainly didn't help that he'd practiced so very little prior to working with her, and she was well advanced beyond his level.<p>

Luckily, there was to be a rather grueling Quidditch practice the next day, which would occupy all of the Weasleys and Harry, and she hadn't made any promises about coming to watch. Perhaps she would finally get some time to explore again as the fox, it had been itching under her skin to do so. In her one, brief discussion with Sirius over the matter, he'd said it was part of being a new animagus. Apparently the urge to be in the other form was stronger in the first few years, and tapered off nicely afterward as the body and mind settled more comfortably into its transient nature. He'd claimed that it could feel like they were to different personalities, but really it was just that one's baser instincts were stronger in animal form, and it was easy to associate those desires, when they cropped up, as the animal instead of a portion of your self.

"Hermione." His voice intoned, and she paused in pulling her bag over her shoulder. If she could get Harry through another discussion on the theory behind the Switching Spell, and its use, she'd probably have a bit of extra time to review her notes from Arithmancy and Ancint Runes and start marking the areas she needed to study more. She was just lucky she was a visual learner... Harry was obviously best at kinetic study, and did best when _doing_ instead of reading or listening. Harry eyed Sirius almost angrily as he and Ronald trudged out of the room, and she cautiously approached her uncle's desk when she noticed that. "You and Harry have been studying a lot for the OWLs?"

"Of course. He and Ronald really should have started at the beginning of term, but they're finally realizing it's necessary. Even some of the others in the house are beginning to crack down." She smiled proudly. "I've enough control over myself, and have had for a couple of months, to devote my attention to revision and review instead of the fox. I should have no problem with Charms or Transfiguration because of it at least."

"Has he been acting strangely? He seems to nearly be on top of you most of the time now." Sirius paused, leaning forward. "Does he know about your new abilities?"

"No, I doubt that." Hermione frowned in thought. "It really started after our first time observing the Dueling Club." She shrugged. "Ginny was trying to interest me in Cedric Diggory, and he got huffy about that. I think he's afraid I'll suddenly fancy the boy."

"He is still... er... unpleasant at the thought of some boy taking you out." Sirius laughed. "He's worse than the Weasleys about Ginny deciding it's time to date." She shrugged. It wasn't as if she planned to start snogging any of her school peers. Most of them were either idiots, or immature. "Has Ronald joined you at all? Or anyone else?"

"No... not really. We've gotten Ron once... but he's being his stubborn, moody self because he doesn't know what he wants to do with himself after Hogwarts." She sighed, brushing back her curly hair. "Two days ago he asked me if we couldn't just get married after school is done with and he'd support me 'and my brain' in whatever we did, like his mum with his dad." Hermione snorted, and Sirius broke out into laughter at the thought. "Harry punched him. They might have had a row if Ginny and the twins hadn't said he deserved it for a comment like that."

"He _punched_ him?" Sirius stopped laughing, shocked. "Actually punched him?"

"Yes, on his back. His mum would probably have had kittens." Hermione laughed lightly at the memory. "I don't even know what Mr. Potter would have done if he'd seen it. I spoke to him about it after Ron had gone to pout- I'd told him that I would sooner shack up with the twins than marry him, he didn't take it well- and I doubt he'll be throwing punches even at his friends again."

Sirius let out an annoyed huff of breath. She knew that she shouldn't have been so lighthearted about it, but the look that Ron had gotten when Harry had punched him right in his back, and the large bruise on his knuckles the next day for his effort, were too amusing. "Hermione... I'll take him for a day, teach him the Patronus. I'd..." He paused steepling his long, pale fingers, and frowned. "I'd prefer if you didn't study so much with him. He's becoming as clingy as he was before you two got to Hogwarts, and in a boy his age that's not healthy. Maybe if you do keep up with the study sessions, include some others. Force Ronald to attend, or drag along that Longbottom boy. He's amazing examples at home, but he flourishes too much in his casting... usually fizzles out or ends up rebounding on him. That should help, and he shouldn't be right over your shoulder all the time. Even Dumbledore's noticed his hovering this past week."

Hermione nodded, confused that Sirius obviously thought this more of a problem than it was. True the hovering could be annoying at times, but he was her best mate and oldest friend. Either way, if it might help Harry to concentrate more on his study than being suddenly clingy she wouldn't mind.

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><p>Those mischievous, redheaded devils had been smirking in a way that she much preferred not to have witnessed. Something about it unnerved her, and she had a fleeting feeling that they had been responsible for the abundance of moss and greenery in the potions corridor those weeks ago. Attempting to Vanish the stuff had only made it grow denser, and though it was an impressive bit of charm work, it had made things quite difficult in the attendance of lessons. Nevertheless, despite what few rumors she'd heard of the pair being the best source of mischievous information and supplies, they hadn't had what she needed... beyond the name of who she might wish to speak with instead.<p>

The first thing she noticed was the curly hair, and it brought a slight smile to her lips. The bonus was that the now ever-present shadow of the be-speckled boy was shockingly absent. Every Dueling Club meeting, the pair had been there: the girl pointing things out to him or writing vigorous pages of notes on what she'd observed, the boy hovering nearby to study and assure that no one got too close to her. A few times one of the Ravenclaw boys had seemed particularly interested in greeting them, and inviting them to join as they were already there on so regular a basis, but the be-speckled boy had glared him off. He hadn't seemed too fond of her either, though she'd raretly gotten close enough to even overhear their conversations. She'd simply been... fascinated... by the girl with the curly hair.

"_Vous_... You are 'ermione Coulter, no?" She spoke gently, seeing how preoccupied with a book the girl seemed to be. It looked like Ancient Runes, of all things. Even with how cautiously she'd attempted to approach, the girl startled, nearly throwing the book as she jumped in place and whirled to stare wide-eyed at Fleur. It had been quite the rare occurrance for the girl to actually meet her gaze at close distance, and Fleur found herself captivated by oddly familiar eyes. "_Je suis désolé_. I 'ad not intended to startle you."

She was still staring at her with those huge, familiar eyes, and Fleur felt herself warm to the girl yet more. Unbidden, she stepped just a little closer, slightly invading the girl's personal space, and offered a smile that she was unaware of coming off as mischievous and predatory. "H-hi." The girl's voice came out in a nervous squeak, and Fleur's lips relaxed slightly into a gentler grin in reaction. "Er, that is, hello. Fleur, right?" Suddenly the girl ducked her head just slightly, blush across her cheeks, and the angle made it harder to see her eyes. This was a pose she was a bit more familiar with, though perhaps not the blush, and she tried not to pout in disappointment. "Yes... I'm... Well... Hello. I'm Hermione, it's lovely to meet you."

Fleur looked down at the hand offered to her, surprised at the girl attempting to shake in greeting. The English were so strange sometimes. Smirking to herself, she gently gripped the girl's fingers, and brought the hand up to brush her lips gently over her knuckles. Not a real kiss, but such was rude outside of the bedroom anyway. "My apologies again, 'ermione. I did not wish to scare you." She let go of the girl's hand, which dropped, and took strange pleasure in the continued blush on her cheeks. "You seem nozing so offenseeve as much of your peers; eet was not my intention." There was a slight huff and grumble, also sounding too familiar, and Fleur quirked an eyebrow at the girl. "I... must unfotunately be zo rude as to ask un favor. I 'ave been told zat you are 'oo I should speak wiss to find ample practise space?"

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><p>Hermione shuffled back a half step, just giving herself a little more room to breathe, as the blonde spoke to her. She'd never expected Fleur to approach her, and this behavior seemed so out of character. True, she was French, and they did seem to have customs significantly more <em>familiar<em> with people than her native English peers, but Fleur always seemed so distant and aloof within a crowd of people. Then again, with the way that some of those boys stared, and the fuss that had been made of her blood, could Hermione blame her. "Practice space?"

"Oui. Eet ees not somezing zat ze 'ead of 'ouse would entirely approve zat I weesh to practise." Fleur gestured limply, as if such a thing were of little concern, and Hermione's eyebrows rose considerably. Idly, and nervously, she brushed a bit of her curly hair back, barely noticing the piercing blue eyes following the movement with sudden interest. "Eet... I am told zat you are ze one most likely to know of hidden practise space?"

"I suppose that depends on who told you, and why you need it." Hermione took a deep breath, attempting to shore up her Gryffindor courage. She didn't know why the girl was making her nervous, probably just from being startled and the strange behavior toward her so far. If the girl had heard anything about her, she too would have known that she was favored by Professor McGonagall for her transfiguration skill, and did not like to cross the woman often. People knew that about her as often as they knew she was friends with the son of James Potter, or that she was apparently related to Sirius Black.

"I 'ad asked ze red'eaded twins first. Zey seemed ze best to know hidden places." Fleur paused as if thinking something over. "At least of zose I may track down, eenstead of being found at leisure. Zey said, 'owever, zat zey know better ze paths away from ze school, and small passages... not rooms." Fleur huffed and gestured again, as if dismissing them from her mind. Her smirk grew again, the same one she'd had when she'd unexpectedly kissed Hermione's hand in greeting, and she tried not to blush at the appearance of it. "Zey said zat somewhere to practise spells, and per'aps ze loud results of spells, would be somezing you know." Fleur tilted her head, as if trying to make eye contact again, and Hermione turned a bit, shuffling her books together, not bothering to mark where she'd stopped reading in her Runes book. "Eet is somezing ze Defense Professeur 'as allowed me to test my skills against. 'e 'as left eet to me to find an appropriate place to study."

That certainly sounded like Sirius... involving someone, probably too young to be doing the spells, in something beyond their year of study and then allowing them to practice on their own time instead of monitoring. Even she had been left to her trials alone when he was not strictly needed to change her back from an improper transformation. "Er... I might... I mean, if you were to tell me what you would need, exactly, or what you're practicing, I might be able to think of something suitable. A lot of the more obvious spare rooms are going to start being occupied by people studying for the OWLs and NEWTs. You're in a year past the first exams, so your classmates aren't going to bonkers... but the fifth years and seventh years are starting to panic."

"Ah. Oui, I 'ad noticed some odd shuffling about for some of ze students." The blonde moved just a bit closer again, and Hermione gave up her hope of distance from the odd girl. "Ze professeur 'as provided a few special items zat will imitate curses and wards and ze like. I am in 'ope to become a Cursebreaker and Wards specialist for ze French Ministry. Zey are similar to your Aurors, but work more wiz objects and locations. 'e was quite 'elpful wiz materials..." The girl's pale skin flushed slightly, and Hermione tried not to gape. Not only did that sound fascinating and similar to some of her own leanings, but she hadn't even known that Sirius had those kinds of materials at the school with him. "Eet would be wise eef no ozer students could interrupt and... eef ze imitation is activated, a leetle damage is unnoticeable?"

She was silent for a little while, thinking as she pulled her things together. "The shack is out, it would fall down around you with too bad a blast... I was almost knocked out by a bit of falling ceiling when practicing there last..." she twisted her lips and thought further, ignoring the fascinated expression on the blonde witch's face. "There's the Come and Go room, but Harry and the Weasleys know that one, and Filch would get suspicious if a student was always wandering up toward a deserted hallway... could do the duplicate arch for the Defense rooms... but they're awfully near the class and a loud blast would draw attention." She frowned and sighed, looking finally at Fleur again, though avoiding her eyes. "I suppose that hidden passage I found a few weeks ago, and it's somewhere you'd be expected to be passing through frequently. When did you need me to show you?"

Fleur was smirking at her again, and leaned forward to where she seemed to close. Hermione shifted a bit uncomfortably, trying not to fidget overmutch. "Your nose twitches when you zink so carefully, 'ermione. Eet is adorable." Fleur actually lifted a hand and tapped her nose with a single finger, and Hermione went cross-eyed as she watched. "Eet is a day of no classes, is eet not? I 'ave time whenever you zink eet best we go."

Hermione stepped away again, idly rubbing at the tip of her nose, and looked up at the common room clock. Her nose had only started twitching after her becoming an animagus... and she had a feeling it would always be a tell. The passage, and the rather large dungeon room that it led to, that she had discovered from the dueling rooms had been a stroke of pure luck when Ginny had managed to distract Harry away on their second time observing. One of the decorative statues in the room, depicting a famous duelist, seemed just a bit twisted in place, and she'd found the hidden passage after everyone had left. It would be impossible to get to with the club actually in session, at least undetected, but Fleur was a _member_ of that club anyway. "Don't you have a meet for Dueling in a few moments?"

Glancing back at Fleur, she saw the smirk and posture slowly melting away, an annoyed look coming into those blue eyes and her expression becoming aloof and distracted. What had she done? "Oui, zat I do. I 'ad zought, 'owever, zat zis was more eemportant zan attending a club." She sniffed slightly, dismissively, and folded her arms. "Eef you zink eet should wait, I will attend ze meeting anyway. Is my company so poor zat you must rush me away?"

"No... er... the club meeting will be in the way of the entrance we need." Hermione tilted her head in confusion. Fleur was acting so strangely. It was much easier to understand her behavior as a fox... odd how human interaction seemed so odd once one has experienced the simplicity of animal encounters with the same person. "If you want to catch the meeting, that's alright really, I wasn't going to observe today, as Harry has Quidditch practice and we're mostly there for him, but in the meantime I could nab us a bit of food for after your meeting. If you're to practice whatever this is after dueling, you'll need something to snack on." Hermione twisted her lips again, unaware that her nose was twitching. "I could meet you as it ends... do you mind my observing your practice sometime though? It sounds fascinating." She looked down to assure she'd gotten all of her books and notes into her bag again, wondering what, exactly, Sirius had managed to provide for the girl's practice.

Fluer was silent, and it took a moment for Hermione to look up at the other girl. The soft smirk was back, but the blonde's eyes were wide and a little surprised. Apparently, whatever she'd seemed to do wrong had been fixed, though she still didn't understand that odd smile.

_**TBC**_


	15. Chapter 14

_**Disclaimer in preface.**_

_**Just to be marginally fair... yes they are interacting now. Yes there will be *copious* amounts of flirting, and possibly even cuddling... and definite JealousBrotherFigureHarry to amuse one and all (or so I like to imagine)... however the actual getting together into a couple thing is a ways away. Also, PSA: flames are for cooking s'mores, so mind your arson-y tendencies.**_

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><p>Though she seemed to be giving Hermione that too-pleased smirk as she sauntered away... yes, sauntered, Hermione didn't quite understand that... Fleur had agreed to meet up at the end of the Dueling Club practice. The blonde had to fetch her supplies after all, and they couldn't access the hidden passage until the club had ended for the day. Briefly, Hermione considered hexing the twins, as they'd been the ones to send Fleur to her. She hadn't the first clue how to act around the other girl, especially with these strange behaviors that the French girl hadn't displayed with others before. She hadn't the most discernible markings or tells, but her eyes were a dead giveaway should anyone compare them to the fox. Other than Sirius, Fleur was the only one that had been repeatedly close enough to her fox form to know her eyes well.<p>

What had started out as coincidence and an attempt at kindness for someone so far from home had quickly turned into... Hermione didn't know. She knew that she cared more for her time as the fox, with Fleur, than she'd expected to. She knew that she'd developed an interest and affection for the girl, one that she tried not to dwell on, and that Fleur was strangely attached to her furrier side. Now, added to the stress of her OWLs, added to Harry's increased clinginess, added to the risk of exposure of her latest skill, was that her time with Fleur as a fox was at risk. If she was found out by the girl, she knew that she would be shooed away, or worse yet hexed away, the next time the blonde saw the fox.

_At least, though, I'll have a bit of time with her as a human, as confusing as her behavior is._ Her thoughts were jumbled, but there wasn't much of an option for backing out now. She refused to seem completely rude to the girl, so she couldn't abandon Fleur to find her study space alone. She was also mortally curious about this practice that Sirius had set to her, what she could learn. Perhaps, much though the thought of actual conversations and interaction was tempting, she could limit what contact she had with the French witch. She'd only agreed to showing Fleur the study area, and asked to sit in once or twice... that wasn't condemning her to constant interaction or the exposure of her secrets.

Hermione's musings came to an abrupt halt and she sputtered, shocked, as one of the castle ghosts passed directly through her. She was usually quite good at dodging them, though she'd been too preoccupied to even notice Sir Nicholas this time. Hermione huffed and grumbled, attempting to shake off the weird feeling and wisps of ghostly essence that clung to her curly hair, and turned toward one of the passages she frequently used as a shortcut. Nicking a bit of food and drink from the kitchens wouldn't be difficult, the house elfs there were always overeager to help however they could, and she'd be able to attempt to clear her mind a little before meeting Fleur again. Perhaps she should fetch some of her own studying materials, as the more often she had to return to the dorms the more likely it was that she'd be caught by her friends. Much as she cared for them, she did want some private study time, or even some private moments away as the fox, if she could get it. Fleur probably wouldn't have minded the fox's company either, though disappearing as a human to reappear as the fox not much longer would be tedious and suspicious.

The small bag of food she collected at the kitchens was more than enough, considering that it was intended mostly as a rejuvenating snack for practice and study. She decided against going back for her own books for study, much though she probably should have gotten them, as if she had the opportunity to watch whatever Fleur would be trying then she wouldn't be worrying about her own studies. She arrived to the Dueling Club room a bit early, not really wanting to linger in the way of the house elfs that ran the kitchen and risk irritating them into not helping again at a later point.

The sight of Fleur watching the current duel taking place was almost amusing. The blonde was leaned against, of all things, the very statue that marked the entrance they'd be taking later. Her expression was one of annoyance and boredom, not all that unusual, and she idly tapped her wand against her arm as an obvious expression of impatience. Hermione distinctly remembered Harry doing that once in their second year, and setting his robes alight in a bit of unintentional magic. Fleur, of course, remained completely safe from wayward casting, and only arched an eyebrow at one of the spells cast by the duelists attempting to disarm each other. It was only a pair of second years, so the spells currently being cast were rather simple.

Hermione worked her way around the room carefully, quietly, and only nodded a few passive greetings to those who noticed her. Fleur must have seen her coming at some point, because when she'd finally made it to stand next to the other girl, that odd smirk had taken residence on the blonde's lips. Her eyes were still trained on the inexperienced duelists, but Hermione could tell that she looked significantly less irritated now. "How long have they been going?" It was a murmured question, as she turned to watch the pair as well.

"Ten minutes now. Zey are at un stalemate." Fleur murmured back, still smirking slightly, and gestured with her empty hand at one of the boys. "He 'as a good shield and dodges well, but 'e cannot cast _Expelliarmus_ well enough to deesarm ze ozer." Hermione hummed agreement, wondering how much longer the club leader would let them go. Someone should really work with the boy if he was having such trouble with such a simple spell. "I 'ad not expected zat 'ou would be 'ere so quickly."

Hermione blushed and fidgeted slightly, glancing quickly at Fleur. The dueling club, while occasionally fascinating, wasn't all that big of a draw for her. She had other things to study, other books to interest her, and it was only when the more advanced students took to the dueling strip that she really learned anything while observing the club. Perhaps she would join the following year, though, to get practice in beyond whatever was happening in classes. "Did you duel today?" It was reaching for something to say, as the second years weren't nearly interesting enough to hold her attention.

Fleur was still smirking, and had turned to observe her instead. Hermione ducked her head slightly to assure her eyes were harder to see. "Non. I did not feel like eet." The words were almost purred out, and Hermione flushed without knowing why. "I 'ave only attended so zat I could meet 'ou 'ere." She shifted just slightly closer. "Also, 'alf of ze draw 'ere seems to be ze fascination zat 'ou 'ave wiss ze duels. I 'ave wondered, sometimes, what eet is zat you write down when 'ere wiss zat _boy_."

Hermione didn't quite miss the inflection given when describing Harry, and shifted again as she wondered what he had done to cause the reaction in the girl. Then again, it might be that Harry had been over-protective and over-clingy lately, and that was reflected when they were watching the club meetings. "Mostly notes on techniques and spells to either look up, or explain to Harry." Hermione mumbled, smiling as the club leader finally called an end to the exhausted second years' duel, announcing an early stop for the day. "For example, your wand control is excellent, but your technique is very aggressive when you do duel. Neville has good form and formal technique, but he flourishes his wand too much when casting... his aim is off, or it affects the potency or success of the spells." Hermione shrugged, nodding at a few of the people that called out a parting to her as they left. She hadn't realized how popular she seemed to some of the attendees... then again, several of those who recognized her were the more intelligent Gryffindors or Ravenclaws, and she was known as one of the brighter witches of the school. When she turned to regard Fleur again, the last of the others leaving, the girl was still watching her with that same expression. Hermione just blushed and ducked her head away again.

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><p>Fleur watched in fascination as the younger witch turned away, the blush on her cheeks not quite hidden by the mass of curly hair. Of course she knew that her dueling could be considered aggressive, especially lately, but she'd won almost every match since the girl's start of watching the club. "Did you bring your supplies, or am I just showing you where the room is for practice?" The English girl's voice was curious, with an obvious hint of whatever nervousness Fleur had prompted in her.<p>

She took a moment to analyze the odd pleasure she had at making the younger girl nervous, looking her over as she fidgeted with the bag that she'd shown up with. "I 'ave it against ze wall." Fleur gestured, watching Hermione turn to see the small chest and leather carrying straps. There had been curious gazes at it when she'd come in with it, but no one had said anything, and Hermione had apparently not even noticed it. "Some of ze zings eet 'as were covered in zat book you 'ad to return to Professeur Black... would you like to see zem when we 'ave come to zis practice space of yours?"

The shorter girl could not hide the excitement or smile that the question prompted, and Fleur was greeted with another brief moment of eye contact. "Oh, that would be lovely. I'm rather curious as to what Professor Black has given you to practice and train with... his idea of what is appropriate for students of this school is sometimes very- erm- interesting. Different. Perhaps I should have brought a few minor regeneration potions, or Girding potion... some reviving potions maybe?" The girl was murmuring to herself and searching the bottom of her satchel for something, possibly the potions she was mentioning. It was almost endearing, if somewhat worrying. Either she was not believed to be competent enough to work with the training materials the Professeur had provided, or he was known for providing things that may be too advanced. "It shan't be something particularly harmful or deadly, I believe. He would insist on attending your practice if it were."

"Per'aps we shall see when we get zere?" Fleur asked with a smirk, reaching forward idly to flick a curling lock of hair away. The light blush and startled expression was amusing enough that she was tempted to play further with the curling mane of hair. She moved to idly flick her wand at the trunk and supplies that she'd brought, letting it hover gently nearby as the English girl adjusted her bag and walked to the other side of the statue they'd been perched against. The slight twist given to the stone duelist's wand resulted in a faint gust of air. Then, the shorter girl beckoned her to walk into the wall with her. Fleur, bemused, watched as Hermione disappeared into the stonework as if it were no more solid than mist, and directed the trunk to follow her through. She had heard of the Hogwarts Train having a similar passage at it's London station, and wasn't quite sure what to expect on the other side. "Merde."

Fleur blinked rapidly and coughed at the sudden introduction of dust, cobwebs, and the musty scent of damp. The other girl had already cast Lumos, leading forward and down a narrow stairwell, bothered by the damp and decay. Were the steps made of wood, instead of stone, Fleur would have feared rot and been reluctant to tread upon them. As it was, she still stepped gingerly, floating the trunk behind her, and tried to watch out for areas slick with damp or rot. "If you're to be down here frequently, the stair can be scourgified easily enough. I cleaned up the room of the accumulated debris when I found it, but I never bothered with the stair, honestly." Fleur hummed slightly, concentrating more on her foot placement. Her home school would never have passages in such conditions. It too might have hidden rooms and byways, she had found some few in her time there, but never in this state of disrepair. "Here we are."

Blue eyes glanced up, and widened. The room that the girl had brought her to was bigger than even the dueling room that they had just exited. Half of a chalkboard remained on the wall, the other disappeared to an unknown location. Two tables were pushed off to the side, old and worn but clean and steady. Despite a few cracks along the walls, and a bit of broken flooring, it was thoroughly clean and dry. How a fifth year student had managed so clean a job was surprising, if the place had been anything like the stairwell. Even her own parents often left such jobs to the house elfs- but no house elf would have left the stairs as they were.

"I learned a few large scale cleaning spells from the Weasleys. The broken chairs and tables I simply banished to some of the other empty classrooms. I'm not quite sure what this place was used for, really, but it's on the dungeon level. There's no storage closet for potions supplies, at least that I've found, so one would assume that it's not a hidden potions classroom." Hermione's words came out in a nervous rush, initially seeming as if she'd used Legilimency to follow what Fleur had been thinking. She turned to look at the ducked head of curling hair, smiling softly. "It should be secluded enough for any loud spells or reactions."

"Eet is perfect, 'ermione. Merci." She directed the trunk to one of the tables, smirking as the curiosity of the girl led her to follow it almost immediately. With a few taps of her wand, and a whispered spell, the carrying straps disengaged and the top popped open. Inside was a collection of smaller boxes, bags, and several books and pamphlets. The girl touched nothing, simply watching with bright, curious eyes as Fleur sorted through it all. Her gaze unwavering, it was easier to see those strangely familiar eyes, and she felt even further drawn to the girl. Slipping just a bit closer, she handed the curly haired girl one of the books, and pulled one of the bags into her hands. "'ere. I 'ave marked ze first zat is to be practised. Read ze positioning to me?"

Hermione looked up at her, and then down at the book. Calmly, with a soft smile that Fleur felt was something she wished to see often, Hermione flipped to the page marked with a long strip of ribbon, scanning over it a few times before beginning to read off in an even voice where each object belonged.

_**TBC**_


	16. Chapter 15

_**Disclaimer in preface. Review Responses at the bottom.**_

_**Bonus points to those who can tell where I drew a great deal of inspiration and reference from in this chapter.**_

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><p>"... Apparently it is then to be left overnight to gather the necessary strength for trials." Hermione offered, eyes still on the book as Fleur finished the list of necessary charms and spells to activate the first of her self study trials. The set up, at least, had not been particularly difficult- just tedious. Hermione hadn't actually been all that surprised that Fleur knew and could perform the necessary casting to activate the collection of trigger objects. As each melted into the ground, slowly, and a faint glow overtook the area she had set them in, Fleur turned and approached quietly. "This really is quite fascinating. Have you read fully through the text, or were you simply working through it a section at a time? One of the effects of this particular set up is actually a submission hex that I've read about. You'll need someone to release you from that should it activate..."<p>

Her words trailed off and a bright blush overtook her face. She could feel the heat of it on her skin, and knew that she had to have a shocked, panicked look on her face. Hermione could even feel her nose twitch as she froze in place. Fleur's hand was in her hair again, idly playing with one of the curls, and she couldn't manage to speak or move away. She could barely manage to breathe, it had shocked her so. As her brain stuttered over what she'd been saying, trying to regain its track, or simply react to the invasion of her personal space, Fleur's voice purred out in its thick accent. "'ermione, your voice is quite smooth when you are reading. Eet is razer soothing, no?" Hermione's eyes darted to Fleur's face, and saw that she was instead looking at the text spread in Hermione's hands, instead of directly at her. "Zis fascinates you, oui? S'il vous plaît, you must come down wiz me often. Read et I will practise."

"I..." She stammered, still a little stunned at the fingers gently twirling a single lock of her hair. Why was Fleur playing with her hair? What had she just said? Fleur was playing with her hair. Even Harry and her uncle didn't play with her hair. Her own foster mother didn't play with her hair like this. What had she said? As quickly and absently as it had happened, Fleur's fingers left her hair, and she flipped the page in front of them, turning to the lengthy description of detection methods, and counterspells to what was supposed to be presented by that combination of artifacts and spells. "Read to you?"

"Oui. Ze testing your year dreads so is zis year, no? Eet is as easy to study here as eet is in ze Library or ze common area... or must you continue to spend all of your time 'elping zat _boy_ with his studies?" Hermione risked another glance at Fleur, who was still a bit too close, and still seeming to look at the book instead of her, but a single blonde brow was arched high, and the smug smirk was gone. Harry, and his Quidditch-famous father, apparently did not impress her. Swallowing and turning a bit more to keep her eyes better hidden, she thought over it.

True she had been spending a good deal of time away from her friends for the majority of this year. Initially it had been so that she could fully master her Animagus powers, and then to explore and enjoy them. They hadn't really even gone on any adventures or outings for fun, and she knew that they felt it a bit bitterly. Ron, however, was still being stubborn and lazy about his studies, and Ginny was as interested in sneaking off to study with Victor, or just do whatever it was they did together. Harry... well Harry was being clingy and Sirius had actually asked her to assure that there were others with them more often. "I... alright." The words slipped out of her lips without any real consent on the part of her mind, and she breathed out, blinking rapidly. Hadn't she determined not even an hour before that she would attempt to reduce the chances of Fleur discovering her secret? "How often do you intend to come down for practice? I can't imagine that your classes offer too much time for extra study... NEWT courses aren't known for being easy."

"Non, zey are not _easy_... mais, zey are not incredibly difficult. I 'ad 'oped to practise 'ere at least after ze regular meetings of ze club, after you said zat ze entrance was so close. Zis would assure I 'ave an excuse to be 'ere, no?" Fleur offered, stepping back and watching her. Hermione replaced the ribbon that had marked the necessary pages before, and closed the book, settling it into the chest where it had come from. Breathing deeply, she considered her own study schedule, and Harry's need for practice and study. It might be difficult to slip away from him, if they continued attending Dueling Club to watch together, but at this point he needed to study more on what he had already learned in school, and practice that. Perhaps she could convince him, and a few others, to have a single practice and study session a week... in the Come and Go room maybe, or the duplicate arch for the Defense rooms. "'ermione?"

"Y- yes. Yes, I think I can do that." Hermione nodded to herself, still picturing her schedule and study schedule. It would be easy enough for her to get about as the fox, if she could find enough places to transform and wasn't out past curfew. She ignored the look on the blonde's face as she watched her. Was her nose twitching again? She tried to concentrate on keeping it still as she thought, but the attempt left her a little cross-eyed, and thinking more on that she needed to work on her tells rather than her study plans. Fleur was smirking though, and walked over to close and seal the supply trunk, moving it, and the table, further away from the area she'd arranged her practice equipment in. "Thank-you... this should prove very informative."

Fleur's laugh was beautiful and unexpected. She didn't know how to react to it, really, or what she'd said that was so funny. Hermione stood there a little awkwardly, confused, as the blonde laughed sweetly, shaking her head. "Eenformative?" The thicker accent as her laughter subsided drew out the first syllable, and Hermione blushed. "Bon sang! Si charmante." Hermione's blush increased tenfold, and she was sure that she had to be bright enough to match her house colors at that point. Fleur hadn't any idea that she understood what was being said, but that didn't stop her reaction to it. "Oui, 'ermione, eenformative."

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><p>The latest Quidditch match had gone well, with Gryffindor beating out Ravenclaw by at least 75 points. The Weasleys and Harry were in a fine mood over it, and Ginny had managed to sneak off afterward to celebrate with Viktor instead of the rest of the house. Because of the match, the Dueling Club's meeting had been cancelled for the day, but Hermione did not once doubt that Fleur would be going to practice with her equipment. It had only been a week, but she had already learned that, no matter how playful or smug Fleur might seem when interacting with her now, she was quite serious in her studies. It was rather refreshing, considering that she'd only managed to convince Harry, Neville, and one of the Hufflepuff boys to meet for once weekly study and practice sessions together. Harry had been disappointed that she wanted to drag others into their study time together, but he had been surprisingly cooperative once she'd mentioned that it would afford both of them more personal time if there was only the one set meeting each week. She doubted he'd realized that also meant she'd probably take that personal time away from everyone again.<p>

Fleur slipped away from the crowd; Hermione only noticed because she could see the crush of Gryffindor colors part slightly to let someone blonde and graceful through. With Harry and Ron yelling and throwing quite the fuss with everyone else it wasn't difficult to shuffle away and be lost in the sea of peers either. As fun as it was to celebrate with them, she found herself unwilling to forgo her meeting with the French girl. There would always be other Quidditch matches, as there had been before, and should their House win the cup this year an even larger party would commence. She knew her friends would eventually miss her, probably when searching her out to share in more yelling and jovial celebration, but they'd probably assume she'd just gone up to her bed. Hermione eventually managed to squeeze through the portrait hole, and bid the Fat Lady a sympathetic glance for her obvious irritation at the common room's ruckus. Eventually the prefects would make them calm down.

When she'd finally caught up with Fleur, the girl was just passing through the hidden opening to the stairwell. Hermione had to slip through quickly before the wand turned itself back into the correct position, and she trotted quickly down the stairs after the other girl. Fleur had taken time, at some point, to spell the cobwebs and moss away, though she left it in some measure of disrepair. Hermione thought that, perhaps, the other girl had left it as such in case someone else happened upon the passage. As they reached the room, however, she looked about. A few of her books and bits of notes had accumulated on the table near Fleur's chest of practice supplies, and several candles had been accumulated along with the false magical windows that had previously lit the area. It was beginning to look more and more frequented, and personal to their study habits. A bag of crisps and roast nuts was somewhere, she couldn't quite remember where it had gone, for a bit of snacking between Dueling Club and practices, and she usually had some fruit, bread, or boiled eggs secreted away from a previous meal or trip to the kitchens.

Fleur hadn't been having an easy time with this first trial of the items that Sirius had provided. From what Hermione could determine, it was minor, almost imperceptible, faltering in her movements or words when she attempted one of the detection spells or powders. Only once, at least, had one of the effects been set off. The sight of Fleur falling back from a temporary stunning hex activating had been rather frightening. She could tell that the French girl was frustrated with her lack of speedy progress, and that it would be a silent day. She'd encountered the blonde in such a mood more than once in the fur, but never so far as a human. Wordlessly, she levitated the spare table, more wobbly than its mate and thus less used, against the wall, and transfigured it with mumbled words and a bit of concentration. A nice, comfortable chaise would provide a good reading space. Perhaps she would read aloud to Fleur again, instead of studying this time. She was unsure of if it would be truly welcome, in the other girl's mood, but she hadn't been ushered away yet.

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><p>Fleur looked in mild surprise at the hint of movement off to the side. She should not have been surprised, at this point, when Hermione demonstrated such casual mastery of her magic. The curly-haired witch was obviously beyond her year, if what she studied and showed understanding of was any hint. Nevertheless, as the table shifted and molded itself into a comfortable looking bit of furniture, she had to smirk to herself in mild surprise. On another the show of power might have irritated her, but Hermione seemed to do so without any care that she was doing it. Even as she was mildly distracted from her study of the area she'd set her practice materials to, the English girl took a familiar book and settled onto the chair.<p>

"... Understanding of the Jabberwall Detection Spell is a prerequisite to its use, for the understanding of what you use it against becomes unnecessary until its results have shown you such." Hermione's voice trailed out calmly, casually. Fleur glanced at the other girl, brow quirked, and grinned slightly at the annoyed expression that sentence gave her. "Hmph. Jabberwall is among a school of spells created by the Wizard Charles Dodgson combining charms and hexes, one of the few Wizards in history to successfully combine the two easily. Called Slithy Spells, one must be in a particular mindset for the use of these spells, lest they completely ignore the intent of their caster and instead make the expended magic dance about uselessly anywhere but where it is cast." There was another pause, and Fleur could tell that Hermione did not quite understand, or like, the implications of the text. Slowly, she approached the calmly reading girl.

Hermione was curled comfortably against the back and side rest of the chaise lounge, feet tucked beneath her and shoes discarded on the ground. Her words came out, despite the girl's dislike of the content, in a smooth, even tone. She'd tamed her hair a bit more than usual for the Quidditch game, Fleur supposed, as it seemed slightly less bushy than she was used to. The curls still called her attention, and she found her gaze mostly drawn to them as she approached the reading girl.

"... nonsense words often incorporated into the casting of the spell, and occasionally a medium is used beyond the need of a wand. For the case of the Jabberwall Detection Spell, one must have what is defined as an Uffish state of mind. Be curious and open to answers, but aggressive in your desire. To use Slithy detection, one must know that the spells will take unusual routs, defined by the nature of the nonsense words used within them. Without these nonsense words, it would seem that the intention is too direct and the magic will fizzle out for lack of creativity." Fleur leaned casually against the side of the chaise, near where Hermione read, and let the words sink in. Her hand idly reached forward and plucked at one of the curls that had caught her attention the moment before, and she studied it as the book's passage was read for her. "... erm... Do... do not stand as one normally would when casting, nor move one's wand in such motions as would be common. Stand or crouch, pose oneself in an exaggerated fashion, preferably in a parody of confidence, and move your wand in a rough manner when casting. The Jabberwall Detection Spell slithers its magic between the patterns of magic cast for the wards it is used against, and is most effective against those with more sinister backlash. The nonsense of the Jabberwall Detection, through the improbability of innocent detection and exaggerated arrogant temper, will then leave signs for its caster to know what, exactly, it has found." Hermione huffed slightly to herself, seemingly ignoring the way that Fleur's fingers twirled into her hair. "Nonsense is right."

"Oui. Eet is supposed to be one of ze more eeffective of ze detection mezods against wards, alzough eet 'as only been in use since ze 1800s." Fleur murmured, stroking her fingers through the curling locks more boldly. Hermione shivered and curled slightly more, her nose twitching yet again, but she didn't object or pull away. "So soft... Eet would seem zat I cannot make my mind understand nonsense well enough zat ze spell works for me, 'owever."

Hermione murmured something before blinking rapidly and shivering again, pulling away just enough that Fleur's fingers were barely tangled at the ends of her hair, instead of petting through it as she had been. "Hmn, perhaps you're just taking it too seriously." She mumbled, and when Fleur gripped gently at the hair she still had contact with, and then let go again, the girl shivered once more. "Erm... I... I mean it's nonsense. Nonsense exactly. It said to pose and be... erm... uffish. Whatever exactly uffish is supposed to be. If you approach it too seriously, without it being an exaggerated parody of seriousness, maybe that's why it's not working?"

Fleur murmured softly, noting that she had come out of the comfortable curl she'd been in. Letting her fingers drag through those curls, and listening to her smooth voice read through the passage, had been inexplicably soothing. It was almost as wonderful as those moments when her little fox would find her, and allow her to pull it into her lap and pet it as she relaxed from the time of dealing with the fools that inhabited this place. Tentatively, she reached forward and played with a curl again. Hermione didn't flinch away or comment, slowly relaxing back into it after a moment of hesitation, as if she were unsure of the comfort she might have with it. "Oui... read eet for me again, 'ermione? Eet is true zat I must understand zis spell to be able to use eet. One cannot learn from une book and what eet is telling us, wizout first knowing 'ow to open eet and read."

Hermione hummed in tentative agreement, body still where she sat as Fleur's fingers gently played with her curls. Slowly, she began to read again, starting where she had before.

_**TBC**_

_**To Brmide: Thank-you for reading then. I'm glad you're enjoying it. If you like smug Fleur, you're going to love the chapters as they go along.**_

_**To Azwildcats: Hmmn, I hadn't actually intended a riot of drama and heartache and lengthy fighting over Hermione's fox secret... perhaps I should as you seem to know my somewhat wicked tendencies. You did at least make me laugh though... which made my coworker twitch when she heard me doing so while reading on my phone.**_


	17. Chapter 16

_**Disclaimer in preface. Review Responses at the bottom.**_

_**My apologies if the French is botched. I was using Google Translate.**_

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><p>Hermione looked about at the small collection of students as they shuffled through the steps of practice and study. Neville and Harry were huddled off to one side, discussing Herbology, while she observed Ernie Macmillan settling into a bit of practical study with their latest additions, a pair of Ravenclaws and one of the Gryffindor boys. With time before the OWLs growing ever shorter, it seemed that the study group she'd arranged with Harry had grown more popular. She felt as much like one of the professors as she did like a student studying for important exams. More than one of them she'd had to help with Transfiguration, and it seemed that Ernie was the only one mostly proficient in the majority of what they were working on. The two Ravenclaws seemed to be catching on rather quickly, though, and she suspected their biggest problem was going to be wandwork. Even Harry seemed to be doing well with the variety of people to practice with, and she just wished that Ron would take up with the group as well.<p>

"Ah. You are 'ere." The words startled her a bit, and Hermione turned to stare at Fleur's unexpected entrance to the study group. "I 'ad seen ze _boy_ shuffle zrough zis arch, et je me rappelais: you mentioned un arch when zinking of un place for my practise." Hermione blushed a bit and ducked her head, looking again at the group of students. "Zis is your leetle study group, oui? Why do you not practise wiz zem?" Fleur didn't quite grip into her curls again, as Hermione had begun to become too familiar with. It wasn't so much that she minded Fleur playing with her hair... it was always just so unexpected when it came. The blonde did, though, gently flick a few curls further out of Hermione's face, standing too close and speaking in a low, purring voice. Hermione convinced herself it was because the older girl didn't wish to disturb the others' practice.

"I... I'm just observing for now." She offered, suppressing a slight shiver. "My weaker areas seem to be potions and history, and we're not working on that today. I can expect at least an E on them, but I want to sweep my exams with all Outstandings." She shivered again as Fleur's fingers tangled in her hair more tightly for a brief moment, and then disappeared altogether. "You keep doing that..."

"Oui... I like your 'air. Eet is quite soft. J'aime vos boucles." Fleur murmured, flicking a curl idly again. "Does zis bozer you truly?"

"I... no... I mean... it's just..." Hermione stammered, flustered, and stared unseeingly at where Harry was trying to help Neville with his wand work. "It's just hair, Fleur. I don't mind, I guess... but... what I mean..." She huffed, clenched her eyes closed, and breathed deeply. Beside her she could tell that Fleur was amused, and thought she heard one of the girl's low chuckles. "It's just a little distracting sometimes."

"Oui... but you are not doing anyzing eemportant now... yes?" Fleur was smirking. Hermione just _knew_ that Fleur was smirking. Breathing out another slow breath, she peeked an eye open and saw that she was correct. "I 'ave good news, 'ermione." Breathing out slowly again, Hermione opened her eyes fully and turned to look more surely at Fleur, momentarily forgetting to hide her eyes a bit. As Fleur stared at her curiously, she pinked with another blush and ducked her face just slightly. "Er... I have done ze Jabberwall Detection Spell correctly. Zere seems a collection of wards et spells to activate ze hexes... but I know zem now. Eet is fascinating, zis detection spell, no?"

"That's wonderful Fleur!" Hermione smiled brightly and impulsively hugged the taller girl, blushing as soon as her arms had wrapped around her and wondering what had driven her to the action. Fleur's hands had just raised to return it when Hermione shifted backward, easing away quickly so as not to embarrass herself further.

"Eef zis is my prize for doing well, zen I shall 'ave to succeed more often." Fleur purred at her with a smirk, and Hermione turned bright red, spinning to face the rest of the students again. Several had begun to watch them at some point, probably noticing Fleur's presence, and she could see the increasingly glazed eyes of the new Gryffindor boy. "Mmn... we seem ze center of attention. Do zey have nozing to practise?" The slight edge in Fleur's voice was strange. Hermione hadn't really heard it since the last time she'd been in the fur around the girl. It was the harder, irritated tone that Hermione had associated with the girl's frustrations with their school and the students within it. It saddened her to hear it again. Fleur hadn't even been so closed off when most frustrated during her practices.

She turned to glare out at the staring boys of their small study group. The angry glower managed to scare Neville's curious gaze away, and resulted in at least Harry looking at her instead of Fleur. The others were too distracted by Fleur's presence to really even notice her glaring, though, and Hermione set her jaw. Beside her, Fleur mentioned something about studying together later.

"My 'ermione, à bientôt." The murmured words still held a slight edge to them, and Hermione turned abruptly to catch Fleur's strained smile, and then exit. She breathed deeply for a moment, attempting to control her apparent irrational anger at the rudeness of the boys. Even that Ravenclaw girl had been staring. Shaking off the desire to lecture every one of them on proper social etiquette, she turned again to see most of them already back to pretending to study or discuss work. Not-so-discreet glances were still being shot her way, likely over-curious students wondering why Fleur had come to find her, but only Ernie was still watching blatantly, even as he explained something to the newest members.

_**TBC**_

_**General response: I know I've been gone a while and that it's short, my apologies. Life, being life, interrupted writing, and I'm usually buried beneath foam and crafting implements now, instead of at the computer. Hopefully I'll manage to take more time away for writing now.**_

_**To Azwildcats: Ah the wonderful perfume of reader-panic. Ha. Well, worry not. As amusing as it might be, I do have plans for how the descovery and reactions will play out.**_


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